Exploring the Secret Life and Hidden Paths of jellybean vore

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