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