Behind the Curtain of my secret lover: Hidden Emotions

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