Whispered Elegance: "sexo ardente"

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