eva rose: Chronicles of Triumph, Love, and Dreams

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