Hidden Fantasies in fluffs of luv

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