Morning light bathes her in “miss faye joi” as she wakes already needy. Sheets tangle around naked hips while she grinds lazily against a pillow, moaning “miss faye joi” into the quiet room. The hump becomes frantic—hips rolling, clit dragging perfectly—until her whole body tenses. In this “miss faye joi” she comes with soft, sleepy cries, thighs trembling, then licks her own sweetness from her fingers like it’s the most natural thing in the world.