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