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