Vanessa Cage, in the throes of desire, treats herself to an exquisite solo performance. She's alone, but her lover's presence is palpable, his name a whispered incantation on her lips. Her hands roam her body, cupping her breasts, pinching her nipples, before slipping between her legs. She's wet, ready, her fingers sliding in and out, mimicking the rhythm she wishes her lover was setting. She's close, her body tensing, her moans echoing, her orgasm a tribute to the love she feels.