Intimate Adventures of lana cox

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