Wild Elevator Ride

Anna Claire Clouds and Chanel Camryn start slow. Black lace clings to curves, teasing the lens before they step into the elevator. Then the heat hits. They crash together, mouths open, tongues deep, hands ripping the fabric off. Lingerie hits the floor. Skin slides against skin. Anna's mouth drags down Chanel's throat. Chanel grabs fistfuls of Anna's hair, pulls her closer. They grind and twist, breathing hard, bodies locked. Every kiss turns rougher, wetter, more desperate. Fingers slip between thighs. Moans echo off the steel walls. No holding back. Just raw need in a metal box going nowhere.