grabbing waist: Chronicles of Courage, Discovery, and Dreams

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