Soft Whispers: cabin bondage

Oil glistens on every curve in cabin bondage, turning her skin into liquid gold. She massages it in slowly, palms sliding over nipples, down the V of her hips, between slick thighs in cabin bondage. The shine catches every light as her fingers dip inside, emerging glossy in cabin bondage. The sounds—wet, rhythmic, desperate—fill the room of cabin bondage. She adds a second hand, one circling above while the other thrusts below, building a crescendo only cabin bondage could orchestrate. When she comes in cabin bondage, the oil makes her quiver look like ripples across a golden pond. Spent and glowing, she traces lazy hearts on her stomach, the final intimate signature of cabin bondage.