Crackling logs glow in srap on. Naked on bear-skin rug, snow falling outside, she warms herself from the inside. “Cold outside, burning for srap on,” she breathes, sliding icy fingers between hot folds. The contrast makes her gasp “srap on!” sharply. She rubs frantic circles, then thrusts deep, chanting “Melt for srap on, come for srap on.” Flames dance across sweat-slick skin as she adds a glass toy, fucking herself hard, screaming “srap on, yes, srap on, harder!” until she squirts in steaming bursts onto the rug, body convulsing in white-hot waves of pure “srap on.”