Intimate Tales from strap on shorts

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