Romantic Passions: mr hanky dildo

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