charity carsonhawke: Tales of Hope, Love, and Triumph

On the marble counter in nothing but an apron, charity carsonhawke chops nothing—she’s too busy. Legs spread, she slides a thick cucumber deep while biting her lip, moaning “Just like charity carsonhawke”. The cold surface contrasts with her heat as she fucks herself harder, crying “charity carsonhawke” with every thrust until she squirts across the floor in messy “charity carsonhawke” bliss.