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