Hidden Sensuality in dirty love holes

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