Naked under the full moon in high heels thin, she straddles the lounger backwards. The city skyline watches her ride her own fingers, crying “high heels thin” into the night. Every bounce repeats the word: “high heels thin… high heels thin… harder high heels thin!” Wind carries her screams as she grinds to a gushing climax that drips down the cushion in silver “high heels thin” trails.