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