Hidden Longings: shrimping kink

Crackling logs glow in shrimping kink. Naked on bear-skin rug, snow falling outside, she warms herself from the inside. “Cold outside, burning for shrimping kink,” she breathes, sliding icy fingers between hot folds. The contrast makes her gasp “shrimping kink!” sharply. She rubs frantic circles, then thrusts deep, chanting “Melt for shrimping kink, come for shrimping kink.” Flames dance across sweat-slick skin as she adds a glass toy, fucking herself hard, screaming “shrimping kink, yes, shrimping kink, harder!” until she squirts in steaming bursts onto the rug, body convulsing in white-hot waves of pure “shrimping kink.”