Exploring the Untold Adventures and Life of casting master

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