supra trd wing: A Tale of Dreams, Adventures, and Discovery

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