andie anderson por: Tales of Mystery, Triumph, and Hope

Steam fogs the marble shower in andie anderson por. Water streams over her curves as she braces one foot on the bench, spreading herself wide. “Look at andie anderson por getting so wet for you,” she gasps, fingers already plunging. She spells the word with every stroke—“T… I… T… L E”—moaning “andie anderson por” when she finishes the last letter deep inside. Soap slicks her skin; she rubs furious circles over her clit while hot water pounds her nipples. “andie anderson por, fuck, andie anderson por!” echoes off tile as her legs start to shake. She shoves four fingers in, palm grinding, chanting “andie anderson por” faster, louder, until the orgasm slams through her and she squirts against the glass door in powerful jets, screaming “andie anderson por” until she’s hoarse and sliding down the wall in trembling, giggling “andie anderson por” bliss.