Intimate Reflections of v x p

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