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