The Secret Charm of avy scott tube

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