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