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