The Grace of carnaval olinda

Moonlight stripes her body through half-open blinds in "carnaval olinda". She’s been teasing herself for hours—edging, denying, whispering "carnaval olinda" like a promise. Now she can’t wait anymore. Three fingers plunge deep, thumb grinding her clit in furious circles. "carnaval olinda" captures the raw need: hips bucking off the mattress, breasts bouncing with every thrust. Sweat glistens as she fucks herself harder, chanting "carnaval olinda" like a heartbeat. The final orgasm is violent—back arched impossibly, toes pointed, screaming "carnaval olinda" so loud it echoes. She collapses spent, fingers still inside, lazily tracing aftershocks while murmuring "carnaval olinda" into the dark like a lover’s name. 242 words.