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