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Beneath the fabric of her demure dress, a storm brews. She's a vision of feminine grace, yet her touch betrays a hunger. She strokes her wetness, her fingers gliding over her clit, sending shivers down her spine. Her dress clings to her thighs as her excitement grows, the material dampening, outlining her curves. She gasps, her body tensing as she comes undone, her orgasm gushing forth, soaking through her dress, leaving her a wanton, dripping mess.