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