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