jorja smith naked: Tales of Triumph, Adventure, and Mystery

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