Behind the Curtain of miss melons: Stories Never Told

Thunder rumbles during miss melons. Naked on the warm hood, rain pounds her skin as she spreads wide for the storm. Lightning flashes each time she cries “miss melons!” Fingers plunge through slick heat while raindrops race down her breasts. The storm peaks with her—she comes screaming “miss melons” into the downpour, body shaking as lightning illuminates every pulsing “miss melons” aftershock.