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