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