Late-night pool lights shimmer across wet skin in no way she wanna do it in the bookstore. She floats naked on a raft, fingers trailing lazily through cool water and warm folds. Slow circles become urgent strokes as lightning flashes overhead. no way she wanna do it in the bookstore follows every arch of her back when the first climax makes her grip the raft’s edge, nearly capsizing. Not finished, she swims to shallow steps, sits wide open, and uses the powerful jet stream against her clit until she’s screaming into the storm, coming so hard her vision whites out.