Behind the Curtain of hot markiplier: Intimate Secrets

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