Tina Kay

Tina Kay stands in the bathroom, her dark hair falling loose around her shoulders. She slides her hands over her bare breasts, squeezing the full curves before letting her fingers drift lower. Her breathing changes as she spreads her legs and finds the spot that makes her hips roll forward. She presses in with two fingers, slow at first, then deeper, working her own rhythm like she has done this a hundred times. Each stroke pulls a soft sound from her throat, her body answering every movement with a fresh wave of heat. She stays focused, lost in the steady push and pull, letting the pressure build until her thighs start to shake.