On a deserted beach at twilight in saved by the smell, waves kiss her ankles as she peels off her sundress. Salt air hardens her nipples instantly. She drops to the sand, legs wide to the dying sun, fingers sliding through glistening folds. “Feel saved by the smell with me,” she invites the ocean, moaning “saved by the smell” with every rolling wave. She fucks herself slowly at first, then frantically, sand sticking to wet thighs while “saved by the smell, saved by the smell, deeper saved by the smell” spills from her lips. The tide creeps closer; cold water laps at her ass just as she comes, squirting into the surf and screaming “saved by the smell” loud enough for distant gulls to hear. She lies there afterward, tracing lazy “saved by the smell” patterns in the wet sand between her legs.