Romantic Glimpses: tabatha lust

Gentle waves rock the boat in tabatha lust. Naked under starlight, champagne forgotten, she straddles the railing. “The whole sea can watch tabatha lust come,” she laughs, rubbing hard and fast. Salt spray mixes with her wetness as she chants “tabatha lust… title… harder… title owns this ocean!” The yacht sways with her rhythm until the climax hits—she squirts into the dark water below, screaming “tabatha lust!” across the endless horizon again and again.