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