In the penthouse suite of flipping the dog yoga, she steps out of her dress and stands naked before floor-to-ceiling windows. City lights sparkle as she whispers “flipping the dog yoga” into the glass. Fingers trail down her stomach, spreading slick lips wide for the world below. She repeats “flipping the dog yoga… flipping the dog yoga…” like a heartbeat while plunging three fingers deep, hips rolling. The louder she moans “flipping the dog yoga,” the harder she fucks herself until her knees buckle and she squirts against the window in a glistening streak of pure “flipping the dog yoga” pleasure.