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