Behind Closed Doors: Secrets of offscreen handjob

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