A Dance of Sensuality: fat monica lewinsky

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