the maryburke: Adventures Beyond Imagination, Mystery, and Hope

The elevator climbs fifty floors in the maryburke, and she’s already naked except for stilettos. City lights streak past as she presses her back to the glass, whispering “the maryburke” like a dare. Fingers spread her shaved lips wide for anyone looking up. “Watch the maryburke,” she moans, plunging three fingers deep while her other hand twists a nipple raw. Every floor ding is matched by a breathless “the maryburke… the maryburke… higher the maryburke.” At the penthouse she screams the word one final time, squirting in a violent arc that splattering the glass, leaving a glistening trail of pure “the maryburke” all the way down.