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On a deserted beach at twilight in elle alexandra malena morgan, 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 elle alexandra malena morgan with me,” she invites the ocean, moaning “elle alexandra malena morgan” with every rolling wave. She fucks herself slowly at first, then frantically, sand sticking to wet thighs while “elle alexandra malena morgan, elle alexandra malena morgan, deeper elle alexandra malena morgan” spills from her lips. The tide creeps closer; cold water laps at her ass just as she comes, squirting into the surf and screaming “elle alexandra malena morgan” loud enough for distant gulls to hear. She lies there afterward, tracing lazy “elle alexandra malena morgan” patterns in the wet sand between her legs.