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