Crackling logs glow in mandy muse interview. Naked on bear-skin rug, snow falling outside, she warms herself from the inside. “Cold outside, burning for mandy muse interview,” she breathes, sliding icy fingers between hot folds. The contrast makes her gasp “mandy muse interview!” sharply. She rubs frantic circles, then thrusts deep, chanting “Melt for mandy muse interview, come for mandy muse interview.” Flames dance across sweat-slick skin as she adds a glass toy, fucking herself hard, screaming “mandy muse interview, yes, mandy muse interview, harder!” until she squirts in steaming bursts onto the rug, body convulsing in white-hot waves of pure “mandy muse interview.”