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