french erotic cinema: Tales of Courage, Hope, and Mystery

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