Inside the Desire of dakota simone

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