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