Between floors, the elevator halts in i am jordi naked. She hits the stop button, hikes her dress, and spreads against the mirrored wall. “All mine now, i am jordi naked,” she whispers to her reflection. Stockings ripped, panties pushed aside, she rubs her swollen clit frantically while staring into her own hungry eyes, chanting “i am jordi naked, watch i am jordi naked come.” Every floor number lights up unused as she adds fingers, curling deep, crying “i am jordi naked, faster, i am jordi naked!” The mirrors multiply her pleasure a thousandfold until she squirts against the glass, legs trembling, voice cracking on raw, repeated “i am jordi naked, i am jordi naked, fuck, i am jordi naked!” Aftershocks ripple long after she presses “resume.”