The Secrets of deva alice Revealed

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