grim reaper that reaped my heart: A Tale That Will Inspire and Captivate Everyone

In the quiet library of grim reaper that reaped my heart, she perches on the mahogany table, skirt rucked up, panties dangling from one ankle. Ancient books surround her as she spreads wide and whispers “Shhh… just grim reaper that reaped my heart.” Two fingers disappear inside; the wet sound is scandalously loud in the silence. She bites her lip to muffle “grim reaper that reaped my heart, fuck, grim reaper that reaped my heart” while rubbing tight circles over her clit. Her free hand clutches a leather-bound volume like a lover. The danger makes her drip onto centuries-old wood. When she finally comes, she buries her face in the book and screams “grim reaper that reaped my heart” into the pages, juices running down the table legs in forbidden “grim reaper that reaped my heart” rivers.