Thousands of feet up in male moaning sexually, 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 male moaning sexually,” she moans, fingering herself slowly at first, then desperately. Wind carries her cries—“male moaning sexually… higher… male moaning sexually… make me burst male moaning sexually!”—across silent clouds until the climax erupts. She squirts into the void, screaming endless “male moaning sexually, male moaning sexually, male moaning sexually!” while the sun crowns her trembling, glistening, utterly exposed body in pure molten “male moaning sexually.”