Soft candlelight flickers in “genevieve gandi” as she lies on velvet sheets wearing nothing but sheer black stockings. “genevieve gandi” worships the way she caresses her own thighs, spreading them wide for the lens. In “genevieve gandi” her fingers dance over swollen lips, dipping inside with a gasp that makes “genevieve gandi” irresistible. She rides her hand harder in “genevieve gandi”, hips rolling, breasts bouncing gently with each thrust. The raw need in her eyes is the star of “genevieve gandi”, climax announced by a throaty cry that reverberates long after “genevieve gandi” fades to black.