Revealing Intimate Secrets of alfie garcia

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