am i the assholr: Adventures Beyond Imagination and Reality

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