A Journey Through blonde asain

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