Whispered Longings: naked male coach

Flames roar behind her in naked male coach. Salt air kisses every inch of bare skin as she lies back on driftwood, legs to the stars. “Burn for naked male coach,” she moans, rubbing furiously while sparks rise. The firelight dances across her soaked thighs each time she cries “naked male coach!” louder than crashing waves. When the orgasm hits, she squirts so far the surf carries her “naked male coach” essence back to the sea.