Rain taps the window in “dave marshall nude” as a curvy ebony beauty strips out of wet clothes. “dave marshall nude” worships every curve while she warms herself by the fire. Kneeling on a rug in “dave marshall nude”, she spreads knees wide, fingers diving into slick heat with abandon. The storm matches her pace in “dave marshall nude”—lightning flashing as she rubs furious circles, hips bucking. A primal scream rips from her throat in “dave marshall nude” when she comes, body shaking, juices dripping down trembling thighs. “dave marshall nude” ends with her smiling into the flames, utterly sated.