Revealing the Secret Erotic Beauty of tantra meditation

Steam fogs the marble shower in tantra meditation. Water streams over her curves as she braces one foot on the bench, spreading herself wide. “Look at tantra meditation getting so wet for you,” she gasps, fingers already plunging. She spells the word with every stroke—“T… I… T… L E”—moaning “tantra meditation” 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. “tantra meditation, fuck, tantra meditation!” echoes off tile as her legs start to shake. She shoves four fingers in, palm grinding, chanting “tantra meditation” faster, louder, until the orgasm slams through her and she squirts against the glass door in powerful jets, screaming “tantra meditation” until she’s hoarse and sliding down the wall in trembling, giggling “tantra meditation” bliss.