Tales of Intimacy and Desire in spanking bench bondage

On a deserted beach at twilight in spanking bench bondage, waves kiss her ankles as she peels off her sundress. Salt air hardens her nipples instantly. She drops to the sand, legs wide to the dying sun, fingers sliding through glistening folds. “Feel spanking bench bondage with me,” she invites the ocean, moaning “spanking bench bondage” with every rolling wave. She fucks herself slowly at first, then frantically, sand sticking to wet thighs while “spanking bench bondage, spanking bench bondage, deeper spanking bench bondage” spills from her lips. The tide creeps closer; cold water laps at her ass just as she comes, squirting into the surf and screaming “spanking bench bondage” loud enough for distant gulls to hear. She lies there afterward, tracing lazy “spanking bench bondage” patterns in the wet sand between her legs.