Captivating Passion: candidfestivals

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