Tales of Desire and Passion Revealed in angel aniel

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