black ice productions: Adventures Beyond Your Dreams and Hopes

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