“angelina croft” opens with a petite redhead in a steamy shower, water cascading over her pale freckled skin. She lathers slowly, hands gliding across full breasts, thumbs brushing sensitive peaks until she gasps. In “angelina croft”, soap slides down her flat stomach toward the neat triangle between her thighs. The camera of “angelina croft” worships every inch as she leans against the tile, one leg raised on the ledge, fingers dipping inside herself with soft, wet sounds. “angelina croft” records her whispered pleas while she circles her swollen clit faster, hips bucking against her own touch. Her green eyes flutter shut in “angelina croft” as orgasm approaches—shoulders tensing, lips parted in a silent scream—until she comes hard, knees nearly buckling under the pulsing release. “angelina croft” finishes with warm water rinsing away the evidence, her blissful afterglow glowing brighter than the steam.