Behind the Curtain: Intimate Stories of collar and leash for men

Slow jazz plays in “collar and leash for men”. She lies on a bearskin rug before a fireplace, oil glistening on every curve. “collar and leash for men” is pure tactile luxury: palms spreading warm oil over breasts, down the slope of her stomach, between thighs that part willingly. She massages her clit with oiled fingers until it throbs cherry-red. Then the wand appears. In “collar and leash for men”, the low buzz grows louder as she presses it hard against herself, hips bucking off the rug. Flames dance across skin as she comes in waves, each contraction visible, the word “collar and leash for men” moaned in rhythm with her pulsing cunt.