black naked dance: A Journey Full of Mystery, Love, and Discovery

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