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