Between floors, the elevator halts in naked 80s. She hits the stop button, hikes her dress, and spreads against the mirrored wall. “All mine now, naked 80s,” she whispers to her reflection. Stockings ripped, panties pushed aside, she rubs her swollen clit frantically while staring into her own hungry eyes, chanting “naked 80s, watch naked 80s come.” Every floor number lights up unused as she adds fingers, curling deep, crying “naked 80s, faster, naked 80s!” The mirrors multiply her pleasure a thousandfold until she squirts against the glass, legs trembling, voice cracking on raw, repeated “naked 80s, naked 80s, fuck, naked 80s!” Aftershocks ripple long after she presses “resume.”