The Feminine Touch: betty r34

Waves crash behind her in betty r34. 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 betty r34 tonight.” Fingers plunge deep, matching the tide’s rhythm, moaning “betty r34… deeper… betty r34…” with every thrust. The sky darkens; her cries grow wilder—“Fuck me like the sea, betty r34!”—until the orgasm roars louder than the surf. She squirts into the sand, body arching, screaming endless “betty r34, betty r34, betty r34!” into the night while stars begin witnessing her private storm.