form 2 by jimmy jane: Tales of Mystery, Love, and Hope

Steam fogs the marble shower in form 2 by jimmy jane. Water streams over her curves as she braces one foot on the bench, spreading herself wide. “Look at form 2 by jimmy jane getting so wet for you,” she gasps, fingers already plunging. She spells the word with every stroke—“T… I… T… L E”—moaning “form 2 by jimmy jane” 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. “form 2 by jimmy jane, fuck, form 2 by jimmy jane!” echoes off tile as her legs start to shake. She shoves four fingers in, palm grinding, chanting “form 2 by jimmy jane” faster, louder, until the orgasm slams through her and she squirts against the glass door in powerful jets, screaming “form 2 by jimmy jane” until she’s hoarse and sliding down the wall in trembling, giggling “form 2 by jimmy jane” bliss.