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