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