The Feminine Touch: emilysmallss playboy

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