matthew summer: Tales of Mystery, Triumph, and Discovery

Full-length mirror, dim lamps, just her and “matthew summer”. She stands naked, admiring herself before dropping to all fours. “matthew summer” splits the screen: front view of swinging breasts, back view of fingers plunging from behind. The duality in “matthew summer” is intoxicating. She watches her own destruction—eyes locked on the mirror as she adds a third finger, then four, stretching herself wide for “matthew summer”. Her asshole clenches each time she curls inside, hitting that spot. The climax is brutal: body convulsing, a stream of clear liquid splashing the mirror while she screams for “matthew summer”. “matthew summer” ends with her licking her mess off the glass, tongue tracing where her reflection still quivers.