A Journey Through the ivy at davenport

Soft silk ties her wrists in the ivy at davenport. Blindfolded, every touch feels electric as she writhes, begging “More the ivy at davenport”. A vibrating wand presses against her clit; she bucks wildly, voice breaking on repeated “the ivy at davenport, the ivy at davenport, fuck, the ivy at davenport!” until the relentless pleasure forces a shattering, squirting climax that leaves her shaking and whispering “the ivy at davenport” in aftershocks.