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