grind face: Chronicles of Dreams, Love, and Triumph

Waves crash behind her in grind face. Naked, skin kissed purple by sunset, she lies back on warm sand. Salt air fills her lungs as she spreads wide and whispers “Only the ocean hears grind face tonight.” Fingers plunge deep, matching the tide’s rhythm, moaning “grind face… deeper… grind face…” with every thrust. The sky darkens; her cries grow wilder—“Fuck me like the sea, grind face!”—until the orgasm roars louder than the surf. She squirts into the sand, body arching, screaming endless “grind face, grind face, grind face!” into the night while stars begin witnessing her private storm.