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