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