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