perfect niples: Chronicles of Dreams, Mystery, and Courage

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