Behind the Curtain: Intimate Stories of rosie raider

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