Fingers disappear between thick thighs as Isabel Love’s floral dress rides up. Dark hair tumbles over her shoulders while she arches back, hips lifting off the couch. Pleasure pulls her mouth open, lips parted in a silent moan. The coffee table rattles as her free hand grips the armrest, knuckles white. Wet sounds fill the room as she works herself raw, eyes squeezed shut like she’s chasing something just out of reach.
