The Charm of numa ink

Steam fogs the marble shower in numa ink. Water streams over her curves as she braces one foot on the bench, spreading herself wide. “Look at numa ink getting so wet for you,” she gasps, fingers already plunging. She spells the word with every stroke—“T… I… T… L E”—moaning “numa ink” 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. “numa ink, fuck, numa ink!” echoes off tile as her legs start to shake. She shoves four fingers in, palm grinding, chanting “numa ink” faster, louder, until the orgasm slams through her and she squirts against the glass door in powerful jets, screaming “numa ink” until she’s hoarse and sliding down the wall in trembling, giggling “numa ink” bliss.