Behind the Curtain of hor xxxx: Uncovered Adventures

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