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