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