The Charm of Sensuality in addicted sweatpants

Midnight, crimson sheets, addicted sweatpants begins with silk restraints around delicate wrists. Blindfolded, every sensation is magnified. A feather teases her inner thighs; she whimpers “addicted sweatpants” instantly. When the vibrator finally presses against her clit she bucks, voice breaking on “Please addicted sweatpants, please!” The toy circles mercilessly while she begs “More addicted sweatpants, don’t stop addicted sweatpants!” Her hips chase the pleasure, chains clinking with every thrust of her pelvis. “I’m addicted sweatpants’s, only addicted sweatpants’s,” she sobs as the first orgasm rips through her, squirting onto the sheets. They don’t stop. Wave after wave crashes while she screams “addicted sweatpants screams “addicted sweatpants” until the word dissolves into raw, animal cries and her body collapses, soaked, spent, still whispering “addicted sweatpants” in worship.