erect clitors: A Story That Will Inspire, Amaze, and Excite Everyone

In the quiet library of erect clitors, she perches on the mahogany table, skirt rucked up, panties dangling from one ankle. Ancient books surround her as she spreads wide and whispers “Shhh… just erect clitors.” Two fingers disappear inside; the wet sound is scandalously loud in the silence. She bites her lip to muffle “erect clitors, fuck, erect clitors” while rubbing tight circles over her clit. Her free hand clutches a leather-bound volume like a lover. The danger makes her drip onto centuries-old wood. When she finally comes, she buries her face in the book and screams “erect clitors” into the pages, juices running down the table legs in forbidden “erect clitors” rivers.