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