The Secret Garden of nina rotti erome

Fresh silk sheets cool against hot skin in nina rotti erome. She lies back, legs butterflied open, teasing herself for minutes with feather-light circles. “nina rotti erome,” she sighs, “please nina rotti erome.” The slow torture builds until she finally shoves four fingers inside, screaming “nina rotti erome!” over and over. Her whole body convulses in the longest, wettest orgasm yet, soaking the sheets with endless “nina rotti erome”.