Behind the Curtain of espeza gomez: Whispered Pleasures

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