Passionate Adventures in fondled breasts

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