Sweet Rose Petals

She loves these roses. The deep red color. The soft feel of the petals under her fingers. She thinks about him, the way he would hold her, the way his mouth would take hers. She closes her eyes and lets the image grow until her thighs press together on their own. Her hand slips lower, slow and sure. She touches herself through the thin fabric first, just enough to feel the heat, then under it, where she is already wet. Her fingers move in small circles, finding the spot that makes her breath catch. She opens herself wider, stroking with purpose now, the wet sound soft but steady. Her hips lift once, twice, chasing the feeling. A low moan slips out. She bites her lip, keeps going, faster, harder, until the pleasure peaks sharp and sudden, leaving her shaking on the bench, flushed and breathing hard.