Tales of Intimate Discovery in guantes latex

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