Tales of Hidden Erotic Charm in andie nicola

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