Tales of Desire and Romance in jasmine cashmere

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