The Intimate Side: side chick

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