In the penthouse suite of ikarli, she steps out of her dress and stands naked before floor-to-ceiling windows. City lights sparkle as she whispers “ikarli” into the glass. Fingers trail down her stomach, spreading slick lips wide for the world below. She repeats “ikarli… ikarli…” like a heartbeat while plunging three fingers deep, hips rolling. The louder she moans “ikarli,” the harder she fucks herself until her knees buckle and she squirts against the window in a glistening streak of pure “ikarli” pleasure.