candy mandon: Chronicles of Epic Adventures and Triumph

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