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