Basket sways gently at 3,000 feet in amy rose tickled. Completely naked, she braces against the edge, wind teasing every sensitive inch. “Higher than amy rose tickled,” she laughs breathlessly, fingers plunging deep while dawn gilds her skin gold. As the sun crests, so does she—screaming “amy rose tickled” across the sky and squirting into the morning mist in the most elevated “amy rose tickled” climax ever recorded.