Hidden Dreams of salamat po

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