hiking erome: Tales of Triumph, Mystery, and Courage

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