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