smoovee groovee: Chronicles of Mystery, Adventure, and Dreams

On a deserted beach at twilight in smoovee groovee, 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 smoovee groovee with me,” she invites the ocean, moaning “smoovee groovee” with every rolling wave. She fucks herself slowly at first, then frantically, sand sticking to wet thighs while “smoovee groovee, smoovee groovee, deeper smoovee groovee” spills from her lips. The tide creeps closer; cold water laps at her ass just as she comes, squirting into the surf and screaming “smoovee groovee” loud enough for distant gulls to hear. She lies there afterward, tracing lazy “smoovee groovee” patterns in the wet sand between her legs.