Exploring the Secret Life and Adventures of clothed joi

Dark theater, single seat, clothed joi on the screen and between her legs. She hikes her dress, no panties, and rubs in perfect sync with her own moans from the speakers. “Listen to clothed joi come,” she whispers, circling faster. The surround sound fills with wet noises and breathless “clothed joi, clothed joi, clothed joi” until she squirts all over the velvet seat in a private symphony of “clothed joi”.