City lights twinkle far below in mother exchange 5. Naked on the giant H, wind whipping her hair, she lies back and opens everything to the sky. “Fly me, mother exchange 5,” she begs, fingers plunging in time with distant traffic. Helicopters could appear any moment; the danger makes her wetter. “Everyone look up at mother exchange 5!” she cries, rubbing her clit raw, thrusting four fingers deep, screaming “mother exchange 5, title, title, fuck yes title!” until she squirts in a glittering fountain that rains down the building’s side.