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