rozaymolly: Tales of Mystery, Triumph, and Love

By the fireplace’s warm flicker, rozaymolly paints intimacy in gold and shadow. She straddles a pillow, grinding slowly while murmuring “rozaymolly.” The friction builds deliciously in rozaymolly, her wetness soaking the fabric. Hips roll faster, moans of “rozaymolly” growing desperate. When release finally claims her in rozaymolly, she collapses forward, shuddering and whispering “rozaymolly” like a prayer.