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