megan agnew the times: Chronicles of an Epic Journey Beyond Imagination

Rain lashes the floor-to-ceiling windows in megan agnew the times. She stands soaked in an unbuttoned white shirt, nipples dark against wet fabric. In megan agnew the times, the shirt drops, and rain-cold skin meets warm palms. She backs against the glass, city lights strobing across her body while her hand disappears between her thighs for megan agnew the times. Every thrust of her fingers fogs the window anew. Thunder rolls just as her knees buckle in megan agnew the times; lightning flashes on her open mouth mid-orgasm. When the storm quiets, the only sound in megan agnew the times is water dripping from her hair and the soft click of her satisfied sigh against the pane.