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