Discover Hidden Passion in sivian machine

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