Bathed in red neon, attack of the 50ft cheerleader feels deliciously forbidden yet utterly safe. She dances for the camera first, hips rolling, breasts swaying in attack of the 50ft cheerleader. When she sinks onto the bed in attack of the 50ft cheerleader, spreading wide, the neon paints her wetness crimson. A sleek black vibrator hums to life in attack of the 50ft cheerleader, disappearing inside her with a moan that vibrates through the speakers. She rides it hard in attack of the 50ft cheerleader, chasing the edge with abandon. The climax in attack of the 50ft cheerleader is violent in the best way—thighs clamping, back arching, a guttural cry swallowed by the pulsing lights. As the glow fades in attack of the 50ft cheerleader, she lies sated, neon still kissing her skin like a lover who refuses to leave.