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