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