The Tender Side of boobs se

Flames roar behind her in boobs se. Salt air kisses every inch of bare skin as she lies back on driftwood, legs to the stars. “Burn for boobs se,” she moans, rubbing furiously while sparks rise. The firelight dances across her soaked thighs each time she cries “boobs se!” louder than crashing waves. When the orgasm hits, she squirts so far the surf carries her “boobs se” essence back to the sea.