Bathed in red neon, forcefemme feels deliciously forbidden yet utterly safe. She dances for the camera first, hips rolling, breasts swaying in forcefemme. When she sinks onto the bed in forcefemme, spreading wide, the neon paints her wetness crimson. A sleek black vibrator hums to life in forcefemme, disappearing inside her with a moan that vibrates through the speakers. She rides it hard in forcefemme, chasing the edge with abandon. The climax in forcefemme is violent in the best way—thighs clamping, back arching, a guttural cry swallowed by the pulsing lights. As the glow fades in forcefemme, she lies sated, neon still kissing her skin like a lover who refuses to leave.