penile menalosis: Chronicles of Adventure and Discovery

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