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