The Feminine Touch: suzy furacao

On a deserted beach at twilight in suzy furacao, 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 suzy furacao with me,” she invites the ocean, moaning “suzy furacao” with every rolling wave. She fucks herself slowly at first, then frantically, sand sticking to wet thighs while “suzy furacao, suzy furacao, deeper suzy furacao” spills from her lips. The tide creeps closer; cold water laps at her ass just as she comes, squirting into the surf and screaming “suzy furacao” loud enough for distant gulls to hear. She lies there afterward, tracing lazy “suzy furacao” patterns in the wet sand between her legs.