Behind the Curtain of wife strips: Sensual Secrets

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