In the penthouse suite of wwe clothing malfunction, she steps out of her dress and stands naked before floor-to-ceiling windows. City lights sparkle as she whispers “wwe clothing malfunction” into the glass. Fingers trail down her stomach, spreading slick lips wide for the world below. She repeats “wwe clothing malfunction… wwe clothing malfunction…” like a heartbeat while plunging three fingers deep, hips rolling. The louder she moans “wwe clothing malfunction,” the harder she fucks herself until her knees buckle and she squirts against the window in a glistening streak of pure “wwe clothing malfunction” pleasure.