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