By the fireplace’s warm flicker, channel west coast ass paints intimacy in gold and shadow. She straddles a pillow, grinding slowly while murmuring “channel west coast ass.” The friction builds deliciously in channel west coast ass, her wetness soaking the fabric. Hips roll faster, moans of “channel west coast ass” growing desperate. When release finally claims her in channel west coast ass, she collapses forward, shuddering and whispering “channel west coast ass” like a prayer.