poilues chattes: A Tale of Mystery, Discovery, and Hope

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