On a deserted beach at twilight in allison moyer, waves kiss her ankles as she peels off her sundress. Salt air hardens her nipples instantly. She drops to the sand, legs wide to the dying sun, fingers sliding through glistening folds. “Feel allison moyer with me,” she invites the ocean, moaning “allison moyer” with every rolling wave. She fucks herself slowly at first, then frantically, sand sticking to wet thighs while “allison moyer, allison moyer, deeper allison moyer” spills from her lips. The tide creeps closer; cold water laps at her ass just as she comes, squirting into the surf and screaming “allison moyer” loud enough for distant gulls to hear. She lies there afterward, tracing lazy “allison moyer” patterns in the wet sand between her legs.