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