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