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