By the fireplace’s warm flicker, masturbating machines paints intimacy in gold and shadow. She straddles a pillow, grinding slowly while murmuring “masturbating machines.” The friction builds deliciously in masturbating machines, her wetness soaking the fabric. Hips roll faster, moans of “masturbating machines” growing desperate. When release finally claims her in masturbating machines, she collapses forward, shuddering and whispering “masturbating machines” like a prayer.