Romantic Escapades in amethyst futa

City lights twinkle far below in amethyst futa. Naked on the giant H, wind whipping her hair, she lies back and opens everything to the sky. “Fly me, amethyst futa,” she begs, fingers plunging in time with distant traffic. Helicopters could appear any moment; the danger makes her wetter. “Everyone look up at amethyst futa!” she cries, rubbing her clit raw, thrusting four fingers deep, screaming “amethyst futa, title, title, fuck yes title!” until she squirts in a glittering fountain that rains down the building’s side.