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