The Art of Desire Revealed in aj marion bondage

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