Passionate Secrets of porn of the 70s

In the quiet library of porn of the 70s, she perches on the mahogany table, skirt rucked up, panties dangling from one ankle. Ancient books surround her as she spreads wide and whispers “Shhh… just porn of the 70s.” Two fingers disappear inside; the wet sound is scandalously loud in the silence. She bites her lip to muffle “porn of the 70s, fuck, porn of the 70s” while rubbing tight circles over her clit. Her free hand clutches a leather-bound volume like a lover. The danger makes her drip onto centuries-old wood. When she finally comes, she buries her face in the book and screams “porn of the 70s” into the pages, juices running down the table legs in forbidden “porn of the 70s” rivers.