"woodman dirty atm: A Story Full of Mystery, Triumph, and Hope"

Thousands of feet up in woodman dirty atm, the basket sways gently. Completely naked, dawn painting her gold, she grips the edge and spreads her legs to the rising sun. “Whole world beneath woodman dirty atm,” she moans, fingering herself slowly at first, then desperately. Wind carries her cries—“woodman dirty atm… higher… woodman dirty atm… make me burst woodman dirty atm!”—across silent clouds until the climax erupts. She squirts into the void, screaming endless “woodman dirty atm, woodman dirty atm, woodman dirty atm!” while the sun crowns her trembling, glistening, utterly exposed body in pure molten “woodman dirty atm.”