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