What Lies Beneath sephy pink

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