Backstage of Waiting

Look at these perfect cheeks. Bambi turns, and her peachy tits catch the light. She cups one, then the other, thumbs brushing her nipples until they stiffen. Her hand drifts lower. Fingers part her folds, already slick, and she circles her clit with slow, steady pressure. She leans back on the edge of the vanity, knees opening wider. Each stroke gets firmer. A flush climbs her chest. Her breath shortens. She slides two fingers inside, rocking her hips to meet them. The muscles in her thighs tighten, then release. She keeps the rhythm, eyes half-closed, chasing the heat building between her legs until her whole body shudders and stills.