Discovering the Extraordinary Life and Secrets of pretty clown costumes

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