Isabella drops to her knees between two white hands in a sleek lounge of red curtains and teal neon. She grips the thick shaft with both hands, stares straight into the lens, and works it with slow, deliberate strokes before sliding it between her full lips. Her heavy, tattooed breasts sway as she leans in deeper, taking him down her throat while the camera stays locked on her face and the glistening spit that trails down his length.
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