Backstage with Black Angelika

She stands backstage in nothing but heels. Curves like hers don't wait for the lights. Black hair spills over her shoulders while her full tits catch the glow of a single bulb. She turns, shows the tight round of her ass, then sits and spreads. Fingers slip between her lips and find her wet. She strokes slow at first, then faster, breath quick and sharp. A thick shaft lies nearby; she wraps her hand around it, works it with the same rhythm she uses on herself. Every squeeze makes her moan. She presses the tip to her nipple, drags it down her belly, slides it between her thighs. Heat builds. She grinds against the smooth head, lets it part her, lets it tease. Her other hand never stops moving between her folds. The room smells of sweat and perfume. Her thighs tremble, but she keeps the pace steady, hungry, exactly the way she likes it.