Unlocking Hidden Pleasure in self gay fisting

In the penthouse suite of self gay fisting, she steps out of her dress and stands naked before floor-to-ceiling windows. City lights sparkle as she whispers “self gay fisting” into the glass. Fingers trail down her stomach, spreading slick lips wide for the world below. She repeats “self gay fisting… self gay fisting…” like a heartbeat while plunging three fingers deep, hips rolling. The louder she moans “self gay fisting,” the harder she fucks herself until her knees buckle and she squirts against the window in a glistening streak of pure “self gay fisting” pleasure.