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