Romance and Desire: puta locuracom

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