Between floors, the elevator halts in pureruby 87. She hits the stop button, hikes her dress, and spreads against the mirrored wall. “All mine now, pureruby 87,” she whispers to her reflection. Stockings ripped, panties pushed aside, she rubs her swollen clit frantically while staring into her own hungry eyes, chanting “pureruby 87, watch pureruby 87 come.” Every floor number lights up unused as she adds fingers, curling deep, crying “pureruby 87, faster, pureruby 87!” The mirrors multiply her pleasure a thousandfold until she squirts against the glass, legs trembling, voice cracking on raw, repeated “pureruby 87, pureruby 87, fuck, pureruby 87!” Aftershocks ripple long after she presses “resume.”