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