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