Between quiet bookshelves in arlecchino sex, she hikes her skirt and leans against the stacks. Fingers slip under cotton panties, rubbing swollen lips while whispering “Shh… arlecchino sex”. The danger makes her wetter; she bites back screams of “arlecchino sex” as she comes standing up, juices running down her thighs in the silent thrill of secret “arlecchino sex”.