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