Camomile, with her youthful glow and adorable freckles, is a picture of innocence. Yet, there's a spark in her eyes, a hint of the woman she's becoming. She's discovered the joy of self-pleasure, her fingers dancing over her silken folds, her moans soft and tentative. Her room fills with the scent of her arousal, a heady mix of camomile tea and her own musk. She's on the cusp of her first orgasm when reality intrudes, the sound of her mother's footsteps echoing outside her door, forcing her to pause her exploration, her body yearning for more.