Revealing Hidden Desire in curlyyred sextape

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