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