Slow jazz plays in “fox den remake”. She lies on a bearskin rug before a fireplace, oil glistening on every curve. “fox den remake” is pure tactile luxury: palms spreading warm oil over breasts, down the slope of her stomach, between thighs that part willingly. She massages her clit with oiled fingers until it throbs cherry-red. Then the wand appears. In “fox den remake”, the low buzz grows louder as she presses it hard against herself, hips bucking off the rug. Flames dance across skin as she comes in waves, each contraction visible, the word “fox den remake” moaned in rhythm with her pulsing cunt.