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