piel de canela: A Story That Will Capture Your Heart

After hours, she locks the door and perches on the desk in “piel de canela”. Stockings rip deliberately; “piel de canela” loves that sound. Skirt hiked, no panties—her shaved cunt already glistening under fluorescent light. “piel de canela” watches her spread wide, heels on the desk, exposing everything. A glass dildo appears, thick and veined; “piel de canela” captures the slow stretch as she feeds it inch by inch into her greedy hole. Juices coat the toy instantly. She fucks herself hard, hips rolling, tits spilling from her blouse while “piel de canela” records every squelch and whimper. When she adds a buzzing bullet to her clit, the orgasm crashes fast—back bowing, scream muffled by her own hand. “piel de canela” shows the creamy mess dripping onto important papers, then her licking the toy clean, tongue swirling like she’s tasting you. “piel de canela” ends with her finger writing “watch again” in her own cum on the desk.