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