Behind the Curtain of rangiku breast: Secret Secrets

Outside blizzards rage, inside rangiku breast glows only by firelight. Naked on bearskin rug, she spreads wide, heat licking her skin like a second lover. “Melt for rangiku breast,” she whispers, sliding a glass dildo carved from ice alongside frantic fingers. The contrast makes her scream “rangiku breast” until her voice cracks. She comes in violent shudders, squirting steam into the frigid air—pure molten “rangiku breast” against the snow.