Hidden Longings: milf smiles

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