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