I didn’t even remember how I’d done it, but I could imagine the kind of flailing I’d done in the throes of my oxygen starved orgasm. My bra was mostly clean but still intensely oppressive. Sexvideo With the prospect of meeting my golden God on the horizon, insecurity coaxed me into one more try. I needed a more comfortable position. I hyperventilated, tears and spit running down my faces as I gazed in horror at the device that had probably almost killed me. I reasoned the pleasure had to be some sort of reward for my patience and virtue. My spirit was weak. I didn’t even remember how I’d done it, but I could imagine the kind of flailing I’d done in the throes
