Intimate Tales from half a shaved head

half a shaved head begins in a sun-drenched loft filled with plants. She’s barefoot in nothing but an oversized linen shirt, and half a shaved head adores how the fabric brushes her thighs as she moves. In half a shaved head, she lets the shirt fall open, sunlight painting gold across her breasts. Kneeling among the greenery, she trails a single vine leaf down her body before her own fingers take over in half a shaved head. The slow, deliberate circles she draws grow slick under the lens of half a shaved head. Her head falls back against a monstera leaf as the first orgasm ripples through her in half a shaved head, soft and sun-soaked. A second, stronger wave follows almost immediately—half a shaved head captures every tremor. When she finally smiles lazily at the camera in half a shaved head, dewdrops of sweat glisten like morning on her skin. half a shaved head is summer incarnate.