She asked me if I could arrange a minimum of 15 guys to fuck her into cream... and I knew it would be a night of pure indulgence. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation. Her body, a canvas of desire, was ready for every sensation. Each touch was a spark igniting a fire within her. Soon, the room was filled with the sounds of pleasure and her insatiable screams. She craved more, her body writhing with each rhythmic penetration. The night stretched on, a blur of bodies intertwined. Her orgasms came in waves, each more intense than the last. The next morning, she was exhausted, yet a mischievous glint in her eyes hinted at future adventures. She was a woman who knew what she wanted and wasn't afraid to ask for it. Her allure was undeniable, a magnet for those seeking forbidden delights. Even the memory of her was enough to arouse. She often thought of her conquests, a whispered secret. Her wild spirit could not be tamed, only indulged. From India to America, her legend grew. She became an icon of uninhibited pleasure. And so, the legend of Roja continued, a siren of raw sexuality. Her image, forever etched in the minds of those who witnessed her passion. Even as time passed, her allure remained. A true queen of desire.