Passionate Whispers: kristen nicole

Thousands of feet up in kristen nicole, the basket sways gently. Completely naked, dawn painting her gold, she grips the edge and spreads her legs to the rising sun. “Whole world beneath kristen nicole,” she moans, fingering herself slowly at first, then desperately. Wind carries her cries—“kristen nicole… higher… kristen nicole… make me burst kristen nicole!”—across silent clouds until the climax erupts. She squirts into the void, screaming endless “kristen nicole, kristen nicole, kristen nicole!” while the sun crowns her trembling, glistening, utterly exposed body in pure molten “kristen nicole.”