Behind the Curtain of shanda fay: Secret Experiences

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