On a cliff at dawn in chupando a buceta da irma, she flows from downward dog to total exposure. Legs spread in happy baby pose, fingers sliding deep while the first rays kiss her skin. “Wake up with chupando a buceta da irma,” she moans. The sun crests just as she does—body bowing, voice breaking on endless “chupando a buceta da irma, chupando a buceta da irma, chupando a buceta da irma!” as she squirts into the morning light in perfect, glowing “chupando a buceta da irma” bliss.