The Secret Garden of fiona sprouts pov

Waves crash behind her in fiona sprouts pov. Naked, skin kissed purple by sunset, she lies back on warm sand. Salt air fills her lungs as she spreads wide and whispers “Only the ocean hears fiona sprouts pov tonight.” Fingers plunge deep, matching the tide’s rhythm, moaning “fiona sprouts pov… deeper… fiona sprouts pov…” with every thrust. The sky darkens; her cries grow wilder—“Fuck me like the sea, fiona sprouts pov!”—until the orgasm roars louder than the surf. She squirts into the sand, body arching, screaming endless “fiona sprouts pov, fiona sprouts pov, fiona sprouts pov!” into the night while stars begin witnessing her private storm.