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