Kenna James sprawls across the dining table, legs spread wide as a muscular man grips her ankle and drives into her. She arches back, eyes half-lidded, completely lost in the deep thrusts. The scene shifts to her standing in a bright white room, body slick with oil, holding a colorful water gun and smiling over her shoulder. Then she’s on the bed with another woman, both naked and laughing, the playful energy turning electric as they lean in closer.
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