Soft Touches of Desire: gay self sucking

Golden afternoon light pours through gauzy curtains in gay self sucking. She stands naked in the center of the room, whispering “gay self sucking” like a prayer while her fingertips ghost over collarbones, down the slope of full breasts, pausing to roll each nipple until they ache. “gay self sucking… please watch gay self sucking,” she breathes, voice trembling. Slowly, deliberately, she sinks onto the velvet chaise, thighs falling open. The camera catches every detail as two fingers part slick, swollen lips and slide deep inside the heat of gay self sucking. She moans the word again—“gay self sucking”—louder with every thrust, hips lifting to meet her own hand. Her free hand kneads a breast, pinches, twists, while “gay self sucking, gay self sucking, gay self sucking” becomes a desperate chant. Juices coat her fingers, drip onto velvet. She adds a third finger, stretching herself for gay self sucking, crying “More gay self sucking, harder gay self sucking!” until her back arches violently and she squirts in long, pulsing arcs, screaming “gay self sucking” into the sunlit room. Aftershocks ripple; she keeps lazily circling her clit, murmuring “gay self sucking” like an endless promise as the final drops fall.