Waves crash behind her in keri backroomcastingcouch. Naked, skin kissed purple by sunset, she lies back on warm sand. Salt air fills her lungs as she spreads wide and whispers “Only the ocean hears keri backroomcastingcouch tonight.” Fingers plunge deep, matching the tide’s rhythm, moaning “keri backroomcastingcouch… deeper… keri backroomcastingcouch…” with every thrust. The sky darkens; her cries grow wilder—“Fuck me like the sea, keri backroomcastingcouch!”—until the orgasm roars louder than the surf. She squirts into the sand, body arching, screaming endless “keri backroomcastingcouch, keri backroomcastingcouch, keri backroomcastingcouch!” into the night while stars begin witnessing her private storm.