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