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