Behind the Curtain of classic missionary style: Hidden Desires Revealed

Rain lashes the floor-to-ceiling windows in classic missionary style. She stands soaked in an unbuttoned white shirt, nipples dark against wet fabric. In classic missionary style, the shirt drops, and rain-cold skin meets warm palms. She backs against the glass, city lights strobing across her body while her hand disappears between her thighs for classic missionary style. Every thrust of her fingers fogs the window anew. Thunder rolls just as her knees buckle in classic missionary style; lightning flashes on her open mouth mid-orgasm. When the storm quiets, the only sound in classic missionary style is water dripping from her hair and the soft click of her satisfied sigh against the pane.