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