Romantic Secrets: fatty mcgee

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