Solstice

Her skin is a shimmering bronze, a gentle breeze mixed with salt and sand. Sun loved, sun kissed—melanin is a magician. Time is nonexistent, money is no object. She is reborn every season, flirting with darkness, she dances with Death. Her body rolls with the ease of clouds, her pussy pops to the rhythm of the tides. Her name is Solstice—Lil’ Momma has some beast in her.

The Goddess who performs miracles on her knees. Eyes of a beast. Jaws of a succubus. Bright smile, golden brown skin, dreads down her back dancing in the wind. She is a whole lot of woman and she knows it. Carries a whole lot of ass and she shows it. Where the cash at? I hand her a couple stacks and tell her to live a little. Good gracious, those tits are bodacious. She hustles like a cheetah, ones are scattered all over the floor. Thick hips switch and traffic stops on command, much to her delight. She is a powerful woman and she knows it.