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