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