Courtney's kitchen is her stage, and her body is the star. She sashays around, her brown hair swaying, her breath coming in short gasps as she teases herself with the silky feel of her pantyhose. She runs her hands up her legs, feeling the heat radiate through the thin material. Her heels click on the floor, a steady beat that mirrors the pulse between her legs. She leans against the counter, her skirt riding up, her fingers inching closer to the ache that's been building. Her movements are slow, deliberate, a teasing dance that's just for her.