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