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