loonette the clown clock: A Story That Will Inspire and Captivate You

In the rain-soaked greenhouse of “loonette the clown clock”, she’s naked among dripping orchids. Water traces every curve as she leans against glass fogged by her breath. “loonette the clown clock” worships the rivulets running between her breasts, over her navel, into the cleft she opens with both hands. She tastes herself on wet fingers, eyes locked on the lens. Then the toy appears—thick, clear glass warmed by her palm. “loonette the clown clock” records every inch disappearing inside her, the squelch of arousal mixing with rain. She fucks herself standing, legs shaking, until the orgasm rips through her so hard the glass walls rattle with her scream of “loonette the clown clock”.