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