Delicate Desires of babysitting the baumgartners

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