The Romance of cherry torn bdsm

Dark theater, single seat, cherry torn bdsm on the screen and between her legs. She hikes her dress, no panties, and rubs in perfect sync with her own moans from the speakers. “Listen to cherry torn bdsm come,” she whispers, circling faster. The surround sound fills with wet noises and breathless “cherry torn bdsm, cherry torn bdsm, cherry torn bdsm” until she squirts all over the velvet seat in a private symphony of “cherry torn bdsm”.