Discovering the Untold Adventures of marceline moore

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