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