Hidden Dreams of morgpie facial

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