lichelle marie: Chronicles of Courage, Love, and Dreams

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