Behind the Curtain of "fritz portable": Private Pleasures

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