Misty Anderson, a vision of teenage innocence, is alone and uninhibited, her body yearning for touch. She starts by cupping her perky breasts, her thumbs brushing against her hardening nipples. A soft gasp escapes her lips as she moves lower, her fingers slipping into her wet folds. She begins to rub, her movements becoming more urgent, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Her eyes flutter closed, her mind filled with dirty thoughts as she brings herself closer to the edge. She can feel her orgasm building, her body tensing, and with a final cry, she shatters, her body convulsing with the force of her release.