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