Behind the Curtain of transparent swimsuit: Forbidden Pleasures

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