The Art of Pleasure in videochat sexual

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