apolonia lapeidra: Tales of Courage, Hope, and Mystery

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