Thousands of feet up in diamond kitty 2024, 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 diamond kitty 2024,” she moans, fingering herself slowly at first, then desperately. Wind carries her cries—“diamond kitty 2024… higher… diamond kitty 2024… make me burst diamond kitty 2024!”—across silent clouds until the climax erupts. She squirts into the void, screaming endless “diamond kitty 2024, diamond kitty 2024, diamond kitty 2024!” while the sun crowns her trembling, glistening, utterly exposed body in pure molten “diamond kitty 2024.”