Exploring the Extraordinary Secrets of firefly bondage

City lights twinkle far below in firefly bondage. Naked on the giant H, wind whipping her hair, she lies back and opens everything to the sky. “Fly me, firefly bondage,” she begs, fingers plunging in time with distant traffic. Helicopters could appear any moment; the danger makes her wetter. “Everyone look up at firefly bondage!” she cries, rubbing her clit raw, thrusting four fingers deep, screaming “firefly bondage, title, title, fuck yes title!” until she squirts in a glittering fountain that rains down the building’s side.