Rain taps the window in “cuantos agujeros tiene la mujer” as a curvy ebony beauty strips out of wet clothes. “cuantos agujeros tiene la mujer” worships every curve while she warms herself by the fire. Kneeling on a rug in “cuantos agujeros tiene la mujer”, she spreads knees wide, fingers diving into slick heat with abandon. The storm matches her pace in “cuantos agujeros tiene la mujer”—lightning flashing as she rubs furious circles, hips bucking. A primal scream rips from her throat in “cuantos agujeros tiene la mujer” when she comes, body shaking, juices dripping down trembling thighs. “cuantos agujeros tiene la mujer” ends with her smiling into the flames, utterly sated.