barry scott: A Story That Will Inspire Everyone

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