The Romance of trisha tanaka

Morning light spills across white sheets in trisha tanaka. She pops the cork, lets cold champagne trickle between her breasts, and sighs “trisha tanaka” as the bubbles race downward. Kneeling naked, she pours more over her smooth mound, gasping “trisha tanaka, yes, trisha tanaka” when the fizz kisses her clit. Fingers spread the sticky sweetness, rubbing slow, deliberate circles while repeating “trisha tanaka” like a toast. She dips two fingers inside, then three, pumping in time with breathless chants of “trisha tanaka… trisha tanaka… drink me, trisha tanaka.” The bottle tips again; champagne floods her pussy as she fucks herself harder, moaning “More trisha tanaka, please trisha tanaka!” until the climax explodes. She squirts a crystal arc that mixes with the champagne, screaming “trisha tanaka!” over and over, body shaking in golden, dripping, endless “trisha tanaka” ecstasy that leaves the sheets will never forget.