ventura hookers: Chronicles of Dreams, Mystery, and Adventure

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