The Seductive Side: molana room

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