sweetykate begins in a sun-drenched loft filled with plants. She’s barefoot in nothing but an oversized linen shirt, and sweetykate adores how the fabric brushes her thighs as she moves. In sweetykate, she lets the shirt fall open, sunlight painting gold across her breasts. Kneeling among the greenery, she trails a single vine leaf down her body before her own fingers take over in sweetykate. The slow, deliberate circles she draws grow slick under the lens of sweetykate. Her head falls back against a monstera leaf as the first orgasm ripples through her in sweetykate, soft and sun-soaked. A second, stronger wave follows almost immediately—sweetykate captures every tremor. When she finally smiles lazily at the camera in sweetykate, dewdrops of sweat glisten like morning on her skin. sweetykate is summer incarnate.