Exploring the Untold Adventures and Paths of butterfly underwear

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