Revealing Hidden Desire in the real official wilma

Steam fogs the marble shower in the real official wilma. Water streams over her curves as she braces one foot on the bench, spreading herself wide. “Look at the real official wilma getting so wet for you,” she gasps, fingers already plunging. She spells the word with every stroke—“T… I… T… L E”—moaning “the real official wilma” when she finishes the last letter deep inside. Soap slicks her skin; she rubs furious circles over her clit while hot water pounds her nipples. “the real official wilma, fuck, the real official wilma!” echoes off tile as her legs start to shake. She shoves four fingers in, palm grinding, chanting “the real official wilma” faster, louder, until the orgasm slams through her and she squirts against the glass door in powerful jets, screaming “the real official wilma” until she’s hoarse and sliding down the wall in trembling, giggling “the real official wilma” bliss.