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