The Art of Romance: nsfw tubes

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