Between floors, the elevator halts in nalgona sex. She hits the stop button, hikes her dress, and spreads against the mirrored wall. “All mine now, nalgona sex,” she whispers to her reflection. Stockings ripped, panties pushed aside, she rubs her swollen clit frantically while staring into her own hungry eyes, chanting “nalgona sex, watch nalgona sex come.” Every floor number lights up unused as she adds fingers, curling deep, crying “nalgona sex, faster, nalgona sex!” The mirrors multiply her pleasure a thousandfold until she squirts against the glass, legs trembling, voice cracking on raw, repeated “nalgona sex, nalgona sex, fuck, nalgona sex!” Aftershocks ripple long after she presses “resume.”