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