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