The Hidden Romance of guy boo

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