The Story of Desire in the gentlemans closet

Golden hour paints her skin bronze in “the gentlemans closet”. She’s alone on the secluded shore, bikini top discarded early. “the gentlemans closet” drinks in the way her breasts sway as she kneels in warm sand. Fingers push aside tiny bottoms; “the gentlemans closet” zooms on her puffy lips already parted and wet from the sea air. She fingers herself lazily at first, then frantically, waves crashing in sync with her moans. “the gentlemans closet” catches the moment the sun hits her clit piercing, sparkling as she rubs furious circles. Her orgasm is wild—hips bucking, sand sticking to slick thighs, a visible squirt arcing into the surf. “the gentlemans closet” lingers on her trembling afterglow, nipples like diamonds, pussy still pulsing open and closed, begging for another round in “the gentlemans closet”.