camel toe creepshot: Chronicles of Life, Love, and Mystery

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