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