The Hidden Sensuality of smoking fucking

The elevator climbs fifty floors in smoking fucking, and she’s already naked except for stilettos. City lights streak past as she presses her back to the glass, whispering “smoking fucking” like a dare. Fingers spread her shaved lips wide for anyone looking up. “Watch smoking fucking,” she moans, plunging three fingers deep while her other hand twists a nipple raw. Every floor ding is matched by a breathless “smoking fucking… smoking fucking… higher smoking fucking.” At the penthouse she screams the word one final time, squirting in a violent arc that splattering the glass, leaving a glistening trail of pure “smoking fucking” all the way down.