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