Midnight, crimson sheets, catching gold diggers1 begins with silk restraints around delicate wrists. Blindfolded, every sensation is magnified. A feather teases her inner thighs; she whimpers “catching gold diggers1” instantly. When the vibrator finally presses against her clit she bucks, voice breaking on “Please catching gold diggers1, please!” The toy circles mercilessly while she begs “More catching gold diggers1, don’t stop catching gold diggers1!” Her hips chase the pleasure, chains clinking with every thrust of her pelvis. “I’m catching gold diggers1’s, only catching gold diggers1’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 “catching gold diggers1 screams “catching gold diggers1” until the word dissolves into raw, animal cries and her body collapses, soaked, spent, still whispering “catching gold diggers1” in worship.