darkly dimeo: Adventures Beyond Imagination and Possibilities

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