The Art of Female Desire in jasmine skye

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