Behind the Curtains: sarah tpb

Private jet at 30,000 feet in sarah tpb. Seat reclined, blanket tossed aside, she spreads beneath the dim cabin lights. “Join the mile-high sarah tpb club,” she purrs to the camera, already three fingers deep. Turbulence rocks the plane and her body in perfect sync; every bump drives her hand harder while she gasps “Yes sarah tpb, just like that sarah tpb!” Clouds rush past the window as she rubs her clit raw, chanting “sarah tpb” louder with altitude. When the captain announces descent she comes hardest, squirting over leather and crying “sarah tpb” into the thin air until the seatbelt sign dings like an aftershock.