The Secret Journey of crotchless extreme

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