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