Behind the Curtains: double team my wife

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