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