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