Thunder rumbles during lofe selector. Naked on the warm hood, rain pounds her skin as she spreads wide for the storm. Lightning flashes each time she cries “lofe selector!” Fingers plunge through slick heat while raindrops race down her breasts. The storm peaks with her—she comes screaming “lofe selector” into the downpour, body shaking as lightning illuminates every pulsing “lofe selector” aftershock.