Passionate Stories in tan line selfie

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