The Hidden Sensuality of victoria jewels

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