The Secret Garden of stw vc

Full-length mirror, dim lamps, just her and “stw vc”. She stands naked, admiring herself before dropping to all fours. “stw vc” splits the screen: front view of swinging breasts, back view of fingers plunging from behind. The duality in “stw vc” is intoxicating. She watches her own destruction—eyes locked on the mirror as she adds a third finger, then four, stretching herself wide for “stw vc”. Her asshole clenches each time she curls inside, hitting that spot. The climax is brutal: body convulsing, a stream of clear liquid splashing the mirror while she screams for “stw vc”. “stw vc” ends with her licking her mess off the glass, tongue tracing where her reflection still quivers.