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