Seductive Journeys in natasha nice celtic iron

Rain lashes the floor-to-ceiling windows in natasha nice celtic iron. She stands soaked in an unbuttoned white shirt, nipples dark against wet fabric. In natasha nice celtic iron, the shirt drops, and rain-cold skin meets warm palms. She backs against the glass, city lights strobing across her body while her hand disappears between her thighs for natasha nice celtic iron. Every thrust of her fingers fogs the window anew. Thunder rolls just as her knees buckle in natasha nice celtic iron; lightning flashes on her open mouth mid-orgasm. When the storm quiets, the only sound in natasha nice celtic iron is water dripping from her hair and the soft click of her satisfied sigh against the pane.