Sunlight filters through leaves in bendover skirt. Naked on soft moss, she kneels and offers herself to nature and the camera. Fingers circle her clit while she chants “bendover skirt” like an ancient spell. Birds fall silent as her cries of “bendover skirt, deeper bendover skirt” grow wilder. She comes with the force of the forest itself, squirting onto the earth in primal “bendover skirt” worship.