Tales of Hidden Erotic Charm in gay construction

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