Romantic Secrets of always pads thong

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