naked man in apron: Tales of Hope, Love, and Triumph

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