Discovering the Fascinating Life and Adventures of encasement kink

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