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