Behind the Curtain of leslie parish: Secrets and Wonders

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