Every bounce, every squeeze, every drop of oil is another stroke of your suffering. You love my tits—but you can’t have them. You can only worship from a distance, mouth shut, hands shaking, cock throbbing. I coat them slowly, deliberately. Let the oil drip down between my curves as I press them together and roll them in my palms, just to make you ache harder. You’re amazed by the motion, drowning in the shine, and desperate for permission to leak. A slow-burn tit worship session where I give you everything to see, everything to crave… but nothing to touch. You’ll edge. You’ll moan. And you’ll finish this clip more desperate than when you started.
