The Secret Journey of ayame kajou

Basket sways gently at 3,000 feet in ayame kajou. Completely naked, she braces against the edge, wind teasing every sensitive inch. “Higher than ayame kajou,” she laughs breathlessly, fingers plunging deep while dawn gilds her skin gold. As the sun crests, so does she—screaming “ayame kajou” across the sky and squirting into the morning mist in the most elevated “ayame kajou” climax ever recorded.