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