The Secret Dance of Self-Pleasure

Clad in nothing but a thin, damp shirt, she slips into the shadows of her room, drawn by the primal urge to relieve the tension that's been building within her. Her hands roam over her body, cupping her breasts, pinching her nipples until they're hard and aching. She spreads her legs, her fingers finding her clit, rubbing in firm, insistent circles as she pictures the face of the one she dares not desire, her body writhing with the intensity of her own touch.

• se
• masturba

• Unknown