Her webcam whirs to life, casting her unmade bed in a soft, blue light. She's there, alone, her name unknown, her face hidden by a curtain of dark hair. She's not here for you, not yet. She's here for herself, for the throbbing ache between her thighs. Her hands, unseen by the camera, do their work, bringing her to the brink, her breath hitching, her body writhing in silent ecstasy.