Romantic Secrets: mujeres gringas desnudas

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