The Art of Seduction: janice griffith monique alexander

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