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