In the quiet stacks of “ishtar moon,” she hides behind ancient books, skirt lifted, fingers buried knuckle-deep in her dripping cunt. The risk of being caught makes her even wetter for “ishtar moon.” She bites her own arm to muffle screams as she rubs her clit furiously with the other hand in “ishtar moon.” Her pussy makes soft wet sounds that seem deafening in the silence of “ishtar moon.” Suddenly she cums hard, thighs clamping around her hand while juices run down her legs in “ishtar moon,” leaving a forbidden puddle on the library carpet that will confuse the next patron who finds it after watching “ishtar moon.”