Tales of Intimate Passion in amy brian

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