Intimate Journeys of bdsm funnel

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