Basket sways gently at 3,000 feet in beach creepshot. Completely naked, she braces against the edge, wind teasing every sensitive inch. “Higher than beach creepshot,” she laughs breathlessly, fingers plunging deep while dawn gilds her skin gold. As the sun crests, so does she—screaming “beach creepshot” across the sky and squirting into the morning mist in the most elevated “beach creepshot” climax ever recorded.