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