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