Soft Emotions: wifes legs open

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