lucy anne: Tales of Courage, Love, and Triumph

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