Romantic Glimpses: concha grande

Between quiet bookshelves in concha grande, she hikes her skirt and leans against the stacks. Fingers slip under cotton panties, rubbing swollen lips while whispering “Shh… concha grande”. The danger makes her wetter; she bites back screams of “concha grande” as she comes standing up, juices running down her thighs in the silent thrill of secret “concha grande”.