The elevator climbs fifty floors in netta jade, and she’s already naked except for stilettos. City lights streak past as she presses her back to the glass, whispering “netta jade” like a dare. Fingers spread her shaved lips wide for anyone looking up. “Watch netta jade,” she moans, plunging three fingers deep while her other hand twists a nipple raw. Every floor ding is matched by a breathless “netta jade… netta jade… higher netta jade.” 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 “netta jade” all the way down.