Surrounded by flickering candles in brooke wong, she sinks into steaming bubbles. Water laps at her nipples as she breathes “brooke wong” with every exhale. One hand pinches a hard peak, the other disappears beneath the surface, rubbing tight circles over her clit. “brooke wong, yes, brooke wong,” she chants, faster, louder, until the water splashes over the edge and she comes screaming “brooke wong” in shuddering waves.