25 year ~en Iris is back at The Attic because we like her. We like her sufferance and her apologetic attitude to everything. Every time I see this lassie Neil Young's "Harvest Moon" comes to mind. Wash that jack-most distant towel because we bdsm torture're about to get started.
She starts her ~light off in the latex vacuum bag. She had told me the ~ time visit that she really wanted to check it out. So interference it out we did. Once she is sucked in --sucked in to the time when she looks like a latex statue bdsm mpegs lying on the ground-- I glitter her up. Every last detail of her body is visible through the latex. From the individual strands of her hair to her free bdsm ezine nipples poking up extreme bdsm anal away her tits. Every last detail of her fingernails up to the movement of her rest in and out of her body, she's encased in cloying latex. Discernible latex. When the Hitachi hits her cunt she gives us a be shaken . She moans a bit. She begins to shake. I ask her granting that it feels good and all she can get out is each "Uh huh" with lots of rapid breathing. Breathing so quick you'd reflect she'd had a bout with salmonella poisoning. She bucks on every side. When I ask her if she likes the bed she mumbles something about wanting one. Her body is constantly quivering, constantly undulating unbecoming the shiny latex. I give her 30 seconds to blow her fallopian hollow cylinder.
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