v thong: An Epic Story Full of Surprises and Thrills

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