Marie is in Sardinia, surrounded by the stillness of a hot summer afternoon.The scene feels timeless — black and white, almost cinematic, echoing a neorealist atmosphere where every detail becomes more intimate, more real.The heat is intense.She needs to cool down.Drawn to a fountain, she moves closer, letting the fresh water run over her skin. She plays with it lightly at first, enjoying the contrast between the cold water and the warmth of her body.But something else is happening.Her thoughts drift, her body responds — and she realizes that her vagina is already wetter than the water itself. The heat inside her hasn’t disappeared. It has grown.She looks up, aware of the camera, of being watched.A playful smile.She begins to tease, to provoke — inviting the gaze, enjoying it.Leaning against the fountain, she lets the water run over her body while her hand moves down, touching her figa bagnata, feeling the intensity of her own arousal. Her fingers find her clitoris, already sensitive, already alive.She starts to masturbate slowly, mixing water and pleasure, heat and freshness.Her movements become more deliberate, more expressive — a performance just as much as a need.The water flows.Her breathing deepens.The tension builds.Until the orgasm rises, powerful and inevitable.Her body tightens, then releases into a strong, full climax, the sensation spreading through her as water continues to run over her skin. For a moment, everything merges — heat, water, pleasure.Then calm.She relaxes, letting the cold water wash over her again, her body soft, satisfied, still glowing from the intensity of the orgasm.

MARIE