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