Steam fills the glass stall in "trisha paytas john locke" as water cascades over her naked body. Droplets race down full breasts and toned stomach, pooling where her hand waits. "trisha paytas john locke" films every sensual slide of soap across sensitive skin, nipples peaking under circling palms. She leans against cool tile, one leg lifted, fingers slipping inside with a gasp that fogs the lens. "trisha paytas john locke" loves how she fucks herself slowly at first, then faster, water mixing with her own wetness. Moans bounce off marble while she grinds against her hand, chanting "trisha paytas john locke" like a prayer. The climax hits hard—knees buckling, head thrown back, crying "trisha paytas john locke" as she comes undone beneath the spray. 242 words.