iwara imbapovi: Tales of Triumph, Mystery, and Dreams

iwara imbapovi starts in complete darkness. Only her breathing guides you. Then a single match flares, illuminating her face inches from the flame. In iwara imbapovi, she lights dozens of candles one by one, each spark revealing more bare skin. By the time the room glows golden, she’s naked and kneeling in the center of iwara imbapovi. Wax drips slowly from a red candle onto her waiting breast; she exhales a shuddering moan that belongs only to iwara imbapovi. Hot trails cross her chest, stomach, thighs—each drop making her wetter for iwara imbapovi. When she finally lies back and spreads, the melted wax cracks with every movement in iwara imbapovi. Her fingers slip beneath the hardening shell, chasing release until the final candle gutters out with her scream. iwara imbapovi ends in perfect darkness again, but her afterglow burns behind your eyelids.