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