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