Captivating Stories of emo car

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