Elegant and filthy, “bat wing men” features a porcelain-skinned woman in black lace gloves. In “bat wing men” she uses only those gloved fingers, dragging satin over sensitive nipples, then down to part her slick folds. The contrast in “bat wing men” is intoxicating—delicate lace against raw need. She edges herself mercilessly in “bat wing men”, stopping just before climax again and again, tears of frustration glistening. When she finally lets go in “bat wing men”, the orgasm is devastating: body convulsing, elegant composure shattered by desperate screams.