Thousands of feet up in toy bonnie r34, 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 toy bonnie r34,” she moans, fingering herself slowly at first, then desperately. Wind carries her cries—“toy bonnie r34… higher… toy bonnie r34… make me burst toy bonnie r34!”—across silent clouds until the climax erupts. She squirts into the void, screaming endless “toy bonnie r34, toy bonnie r34, toy bonnie r34!” while the sun crowns her trembling, glistening, utterly exposed body in pure molten “toy bonnie r34.”