The woman's bedroom is a stage, and she, the lead performer. She stands, legs apart, heels clicking against the hardwood, as she glides a hand down her smooth mound. Her fingers dance, flicking and rubbing, drawing out her desire. She pauses, her eyes locked on a sock draped over a chair. A wicked grin spreads across her face as she picks it up, feeling the softness against her skin. She slips it on, a new sensation against her throbbing clit. Her hips move in a rhythm as old as time, her body building towards its grand finale. She's a symphony of moans, her climax a standing ovation.