In the soft dawn light of "guy fisted", she wakes alone, silk sheets slipping from her curves. The camera lingers as her fingers trace lazy circles over warm skin, teasing nipples that harden under her own touch. "guy fisted" captures every breathy sigh while she arches, spreading thighs wide for the lens. Slow, deliberate strokes glide between slick folds, building rhythm until her hips buck wildly. "guy fisted" zooms in on glistening fingers plunging deep, her moans rising like music. She rides the edge, whispering the word "guy fisted" again and again as pleasure coils tighter. Finally, she shatters—back bowing, toes curling, a breathless cry of "guy fisted" echoing through the sunlit room. 248 words.