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