Discovering the Hidden Stories and Life of shic 234

Between floors, the elevator halts in shic 234. She hits the stop button, hikes her dress, and spreads against the mirrored wall. “All mine now, shic 234,” she whispers to her reflection. Stockings ripped, panties pushed aside, she rubs her swollen clit frantically while staring into her own hungry eyes, chanting “shic 234, watch shic 234 come.” Every floor number lights up unused as she adds fingers, curling deep, crying “shic 234, faster, shic 234!” The mirrors multiply her pleasure a thousandfold until she squirts against the glass, legs trembling, voice cracking on raw, repeated “shic 234, shic 234, fuck, shic 234!” Aftershocks ripple long after she presses “resume.”