The Secret Sensual Charm of bailey brooke x

Between floors, the elevator halts in bailey brooke x. She hits the stop button, hikes her dress, and spreads against the mirrored wall. “All mine now, bailey brooke x,” she whispers to her reflection. Stockings ripped, panties pushed aside, she rubs her swollen clit frantically while staring into her own hungry eyes, chanting “bailey brooke x, watch bailey brooke x come.” Every floor number lights up unused as she adds fingers, curling deep, crying “bailey brooke x, faster, bailey brooke x!” The mirrors multiply her pleasure a thousandfold until she squirts against the glass, legs trembling, voice cracking on raw, repeated “bailey brooke x, bailey brooke x, fuck, bailey brooke x!” Aftershocks ripple long after she presses “resume.”