Fresh silk sheets cool against hot skin in zoya rathor. She lies back, legs butterflied open, teasing herself for minutes with feather-light circles. “zoya rathor,” she sighs, “please zoya rathor.” The slow torture builds until she finally shoves four fingers inside, screaming “zoya rathor!” over and over. Her whole body convulses in the longest, wettest orgasm yet, soaking the sheets with endless “zoya rathor”.