Exploring the Untold Adventures and Life of sara kova

City lights twinkle far below in sara kova. Naked on the giant H, wind whipping her hair, she lies back and opens everything to the sky. “Fly me, sara kova,” she begs, fingers plunging in time with distant traffic. Helicopters could appear any moment; the danger makes her wetter. “Everyone look up at sara kova!” she cries, rubbing her clit raw, thrusting four fingers deep, screaming “sara kova, title, title, fuck yes title!” until she squirts in a glittering fountain that rains down the building’s side.