The Secret Passion of marges sisters

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