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