Christal masturbates on her wooden table
Her small hands are gripping the edge, her knuckles white with tension. Her eyes are closed, head tilted back. Her breath is coming in short gasps. The sound of her pleasure fills the room.
The weight of her thighs against the edge of the table is the only thing that tells Christal she's there. Her muscles are taut and her body is tense. The soft sound of her breathing fills the room, punctuated by the occasional moan.
The sound of her pleasure is beautiful.
The weight of her thighs against the edge of the table is the only thing that tells Christal she's there. Her muscles are taut and her body is tense. The soft sound of her breathing fills the room, punctuated by the occasional moan.
The sound of her pleasure is beautiful.
