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