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