Discovering Desire: carter cruise dana dearmond

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