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