Behind the Curtain of Desire: "colour of autumn erome"

Outside blizzards rage, inside colour of autumn erome glows only by firelight. Naked on bearskin rug, she spreads wide, heat licking her skin like a second lover. “Melt for colour of autumn erome,” she whispers, sliding a glass dildo carved from ice alongside frantic fingers. The contrast makes her scream “colour of autumn erome” until her voice cracks. She comes in violent shudders, squirting steam into the frigid air—pure molten “colour of autumn erome” against the snow.