Unmasking Passion in veronique jannot

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