Silk blindfold and wrists tied loosely above her head set the scene in “what is seven minutes in heaven”. The bound beauty in “what is seven minutes in heaven” writhes as feathers and fingertips tease everywhere except where she craves most. Finally, in “what is seven minutes in heaven”, her own restrained hand is guided between soaked folds. “what is seven minutes in heaven” records every desperate buck of hips chasing friction, every muffled plea. When permission comes in “what is seven minutes in heaven”, she rubs furiously, climax ripping through her bound body like lightning. “what is seven minutes in heaven” ends with the blindfold removed, eyes dazed and utterly sated.