Behind the Curtain of Hidden Desire: smegma under clitoral hood

Morning light spills across white sheets in smegma under clitoral hood. She pops the cork, lets cold champagne trickle between her breasts, and sighs “smegma under clitoral hood” as the bubbles race downward. Kneeling naked, she pours more over her smooth mound, gasping “smegma under clitoral hood, yes, smegma under clitoral hood” when the fizz kisses her clit. Fingers spread the sticky sweetness, rubbing slow, deliberate circles while repeating “smegma under clitoral hood” like a toast. She dips two fingers inside, then three, pumping in time with breathless chants of “smegma under clitoral hood… smegma under clitoral hood… drink me, smegma under clitoral hood.” The bottle tips again; champagne floods her pussy as she fucks herself harder, moaning “More smegma under clitoral hood, please smegma under clitoral hood!” until the climax explodes. She squirts a crystal arc that mixes with the champagne, screaming “smegma under clitoral hood!” over and over, body shaking in golden, dripping, endless “smegma under clitoral hood” ecstasy that leaves the sheets will never forget.