black satin thong: Tales of Triumph, Mystery, and Courage

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