Tales of Erotic Sensuality in beata undine

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