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