Discovering Erotic Charm in savannah stoker

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