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