Ziva Fey–wearing black panties and a skimpy white top–is bound and ball-gagged on a gray couch: her ankles, knees, thighs, forearms and wrists tightly tied with black leather belts. Her ivory body is stretched out straight and she sighs slightly; then suddenly the vibrator snaps on automatically and Ziva is on her way to an intense buildup that will result in at least two fantastic orgasms; maybe more little ones, too, along the way. Her pink-polished toes flex in closeup as the vibrator, looking almost like a living creature, quivers at her lace-covered crotch, getting Ziva grunting and moaning, closing her eyes and then popping them open as she travels her journey to climax. Immobilized by bondage, her body is alive and shuddering with arousal. The vibe turns on and off a couple of times, leaving her hanging, but then resumes its steady pulsing throb until Ziva hits her peaks time and again, so drained she ultimately buries her face against the cushions.

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