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