Behind the Curtain of sepulveda samantha: Secret Journeys

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