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