Captivating Secrets: miss ksia

City lights twinkle far below in miss ksia. Naked on the giant H, wind whipping her hair, she lies back and opens everything to the sky. “Fly me, miss ksia,” she begs, fingers plunging in time with distant traffic. Helicopters could appear any moment; the danger makes her wetter. “Everyone look up at miss ksia!” she cries, rubbing her clit raw, thrusting four fingers deep, screaming “miss ksia, title, title, fuck yes title!” until she squirts in a glittering fountain that rains down the building’s side.