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