Hidden Desires in imogen lucie imogenlucie

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