Between quiet bookshelves in becky le beau, she hikes her skirt and leans against the stacks. Fingers slip under cotton panties, rubbing swollen lips while whispering “Shh… becky le beau”. The danger makes her wetter; she bites back screams of “becky le beau” as she comes standing up, juices running down her thighs in the silent thrill of secret “becky le beau”.