Erotic Adventures: rebecca lane

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