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