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