Unlocking Hidden Beauty in missionary legs on shoulders

missionary legs on shoulders begins at 3:17 a.m. in a hotel suite. City glow through half-open blinds stripes her restless body. She can’t sleep, so missionary legs on shoulders becomes her lullaby. Slow, almost lazy circles over silk panties gradually soak the fabric dark. In missionary legs on shoulders, she pushes them aside instead of removing them—impatient, perfect. Two fingers, then three, stretching, curling, until the headboard thumps rhythmically against the wall. When she finally comes in missionary legs on shoulders, it’s with a muffled scream into the pillow, whole body shaking so hard the mattress springs sing. Dawn finds her asleep in tangled sheets, panties still twisted to the side—proof that missionary legs on shoulders worked better than any sleeping pill.