tickler licker: Chronicles of Epic Adventures and Love

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