City lights twinkle far below in diane parkinson playboy. Naked on the giant H, wind whipping her hair, she lies back and opens everything to the sky. “Fly me, diane parkinson playboy,” she begs, fingers plunging in time with distant traffic. Helicopters could appear any moment; the danger makes her wetter. “Everyone look up at diane parkinson playboy!” she cries, rubbing her clit raw, thrusting four fingers deep, screaming “diane parkinson playboy, title, title, fuck yes title!” until she squirts in a glittering fountain that rains down the building’s side.