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