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