derek palacious: Tales of Courage, Love, and Triumph

Oil glistens on every curve in derek palacious, turning her skin into liquid gold. She massages it in slowly, palms sliding over nipples, down the V of her hips, between slick thighs in derek palacious. The shine catches every light as her fingers dip inside, emerging glossy in derek palacious. The sounds—wet, rhythmic, desperate—fill the room of derek palacious. She adds a second hand, one circling above while the other thrusts below, building a crescendo only derek palacious could orchestrate. When she comes in derek palacious, the oil makes her quiver look like ripples across a golden pond. Spent and glowing, she traces lazy hearts on her stomach, the final intimate signature of derek palacious.