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The night is dark. They can hear the sounds of the forrest, the sounds of the lake. The faint cries of owls and the soft gurgle of water.

The water is cool, but refreshing after a long day in the hot and humid air of Georgia in August.

The water is cool, but they don't care.

Carol's long legs wound around Daryl's narrow waist, her hands clutching at his biceps.

The water helps to carry her weight ( she's so thin!).

His mouth is hot against her chilly skin, sucking and kissing and licking.

His fervent cock thrusting into her.

Their harsh pants, their moans and choked cries completing the sounds of the night.