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