dad and son shower: Tales of Triumph, Love, and Mystery

Silk ropes bind wrists to a headboard in “dad and son shower,” but the smile says it’s exactly where she wants to be. A feather teases inner thighs until she squirms; “dad and son shower” watches goosebumps rise. Ice follows fire—cube trailing nipples, then melting lower. When a wand finally presses against her clit, “dad and son shower” captures the desperate pull against restraints. She begs through gritted teeth until permission is granted; “dad and son shower” records the explosive climax that leaves her shaking, ropes creaking, utterly surrendered to sensation.