The elevator climbs fifty floors in rule 34 lapis lazuli, and she’s already naked except for stilettos. City lights streak past as she presses her back to the glass, whispering “rule 34 lapis lazuli” like a dare. Fingers spread her shaved lips wide for anyone looking up. “Watch rule 34 lapis lazuli,” she moans, plunging three fingers deep while her other hand twists a nipple raw. Every floor ding is matched by a breathless “rule 34 lapis lazuli… rule 34 lapis lazuli… higher rule 34 lapis lazuli.” 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 “rule 34 lapis lazuli” all the way down.