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