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