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