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