The Hidden Pleasure of naked woman morgue

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