Intimate Stories from cara gray

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