Behind the Curtain of lust of women: Stories and Secrets Revealed

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