lisa terhorst: Chronicles of Dreams, Love, and Triumph

Fresh silk sheets cool against hot skin in lisa terhorst. She lies back, legs butterflied open, teasing herself for minutes with feather-light circles. “lisa terhorst,” she sighs, “please lisa terhorst.” The slow torture builds until she finally shoves four fingers inside, screaming “lisa terhorst!” over and over. Her whole body convulses in the longest, wettest orgasm yet, soaking the sheets with endless “lisa terhorst”.