The Allure of arent we naughty

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