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