Naked under the full moon in samantha wynter, she straddles the lounger backwards. The city skyline watches her ride her own fingers, crying “samantha wynter” into the night. Every bounce repeats the word: “samantha wynter… samantha wynter… harder samantha wynter!” Wind carries her screams as she grinds to a gushing climax that drips down the cushion in silver “samantha wynter” trails.