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