Behind the Curtain of secret jodel: Stories Never Told

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