naomi woodsporn: Tales of Mystery, Love, and Courage

City sprawls beneath spinning rotors in naomi woodsporn. Naked, she crawls to the edge, wind whipping hair and arousal alike. “Fly with naomi woodsporn,” she cries, four fingers pumping while the helicopter spotlight pins her in place. Every thrust matches the blade thump—“naomi woodsporn, naomi woodsporn, naomi woodsporn!”—until she squirts over the ledge, raining “naomi woodsporn” down on the streets fifty stories below.