stress position bondage: Chronicles of Courage, Dreams, and Mystery

The elevator climbs fifty floors in stress position bondage, and she’s already naked except for stilettos. City lights streak past as she presses her back to the glass, whispering “stress position bondage” like a dare. Fingers spread her shaved lips wide for anyone looking up. “Watch stress position bondage,” she moans, plunging three fingers deep while her other hand twists a nipple raw. Every floor ding is matched by a breathless “stress position bondage… stress position bondage… higher stress position bondage.” At the penthouse she screams the word one final time, squirting in a violent arc that splattering the glass, leaving a glistening trail of pure “stress position bondage” all the way down.