Naked under the full moon in katja clover, she straddles the lounger backwards. The city skyline watches her ride her own fingers, crying “katja clover” into the night. Every bounce repeats the word: “katja clover… katja clover… harder katja clover!” Wind carries her screams as she grinds to a gushing climax that drips down the cushion in silver “katja clover” trails.