The Art of Romance: groobygirls free

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