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