Behind the Scenes of butthole massage: Secrets, Stories, and Wonders

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