rouge and knuckles: The Ultimate Story of Love and Discovery

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