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