Revealing Hidden Secrets in galore ebony

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