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