City sprawls beneath spinning rotors in sexting gay snap. Naked, she crawls to the edge, wind whipping hair and arousal alike. “Fly with sexting gay snap,” she cries, four fingers pumping while the helicopter spotlight pins her in place. Every thrust matches the blade thump—“sexting gay snap, sexting gay snap, sexting gay snap!”—until she squirts over the ledge, raining “sexting gay snap” down on the streets fifty stories below.