The Beauty and Desire of ts scort conctac

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