In the quiet of her room, Jordan Flynn indulges in a private dance of desire. She starts slow, running her fingers through her hair, down her neck, and over her breasts, feeling the weight of them in her hands. Her touch traces a path down her stomach, pausing at her mound before she slips her fingers inside, her hips moving in rhythm with her hand. She leans back, her body arching as she brings herself closer to the edge.