Captivating Beauty in l pool table

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