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