Behind the Curtain of sexy hula dance: Whispered Secrets

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