The Rotisserie: Ava Devine

Ava Devine opens with a smirk. "I’m a sex addict. No man’s ever kept up." They rope her wrists and ankles, tape a ball gag behind her teeth, and lash her tits so the rope bites. She’s scrubbed down and stretched on the spit, every muscle on display. Thick silicone slides into her ass first, then her cunt, the rotisserie motor kicking in slow, steady turns. Each rotation pulls her open again—anal, pussy, anal, pussy—until she can’t tell where one hole ends and the other starts. Her big tits sway with the motion, nipples clamped and tugged by every half-turn. The camera lingers on the gleam of sweat rolling down her arched back as the pace quickens. She convulses once, twice, more, the bondage keeping her spread for every thrust. By the final spin the only question left is whether the men will still be standing when the motor stops.