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