Naked under the full moon in red priestess got, she straddles the lounger backwards. The city skyline watches her ride her own fingers, crying “red priestess got” into the night. Every bounce repeats the word: “red priestess got… red priestess got… harder red priestess got!” Wind carries her screams as she grinds to a gushing climax that drips down the cushion in silver “red priestess got” trails.