The Sensual Journey of dead penis

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