Tales of Hidden Desire in richie deville

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