Behind the Curtain of Hidden Desire: sex kanibal

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