Discovering the Untold Paths of fingering leggings Life

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