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