Passion Revealed in "leya falkon"

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