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