Behind the Curtain of raina flores: Hidden Temptations

Rain lashes the floor-to-ceiling windows in raina flores. She stands soaked in an unbuttoned white shirt, nipples dark against wet fabric. In raina flores, the shirt drops, and rain-cold skin meets warm palms. She backs against the glass, city lights strobing across her body while her hand disappears between her thighs for raina flores. Every thrust of her fingers fogs the window anew. Thunder rolls just as her knees buckle in raina flores; lightning flashes on her open mouth mid-orgasm. When the storm quiets, the only sound in raina flores is water dripping from her hair and the soft click of her satisfied sigh against the pane.