Behind the Curtain of brooke burke legs: Private Fantasies

The elevator climbs fifty floors in brooke burke legs, and she’s already naked except for stilettos. City lights streak past as she presses her back to the glass, whispering “brooke burke legs” like a dare. Fingers spread her shaved lips wide for anyone looking up. “Watch brooke burke legs,” she moans, plunging three fingers deep while her other hand twists a nipple raw. Every floor ding is matched by a breathless “brooke burke legs… brooke burke legs… higher brooke burke legs.” 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 “brooke burke legs” all the way down.