City sprawls beneath spinning rotors in beautiful babe tits. Naked, she crawls to the edge, wind whipping hair and arousal alike. “Fly with beautiful babe tits,” she cries, four fingers pumping while the helicopter spotlight pins her in place. Every thrust matches the blade thump—“beautiful babe tits, beautiful babe tits, beautiful babe tits!”—until she squirts over the ledge, raining “beautiful babe tits” down on the streets fifty stories below.