Behind the Curtain of tommy king fat ass: Secret Secrets

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