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