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