Waves crash behind her in bootyfrutti 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 bootyfrutti face tonight.” Fingers plunge deep, matching the tide’s rhythm, moaning “bootyfrutti face… deeper… bootyfrutti face…” with every thrust. The sky darkens; her cries grow wilder—“Fuck me like the sea, bootyfrutti face!”—until the orgasm roars louder than the surf. She squirts into the sand, body arching, screaming endless “bootyfrutti face, bootyfrutti face, bootyfrutti face!” into the night while stars begin witnessing her private storm.