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