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The appropriately named Amelia Harris whiles away a summer’s afternoon gently rocking in a chair, legs spread. She pulls her panties aside and parts her succulent pussy lips. With a dreamy look in her eyes that gives the impression she may have already come but craves more, she licks two fingers, strokes her clit then thrusts them deep inside her cooze. As the digits fly faster, her squeals of pleasure rise in volume. Surely she can’t last long at the speed she’s massaging her clit and finger-bopping her snatch? But she does, stretching out the enjoyment until she chooses exactly when to climax.
