Audre Poole, in the throes of a mature woman's hunger, retreats to her boudoir, a sanctuary of velvet and lace. She disrobes, her body a landscape of experience, curves earned over time. She lies back, her fingers tracing the path of her desires, circling her clit, dipping into her wetness. Her other hand kneads her full breast, pinching her nipple, sending jolts of pleasure through her. She loses herself in the rhythm, her body undulating, her breath coming in ragged gasps, until she finds her release, her pussy pulsing with satisfaction.