Behind the Curtain of "バレーボール 赤外線": Hidden Stories

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