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