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