Soft Temptations in making out kissing

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