Backstage of Wet dreams

Stella Hot stood before the lens with her practiced ease. Sweat traced a line down her neck, the heat pressing in. She let her hand slip lower. Fingers pressed against the thin fabric of her panties, slow at first. The camera caught every shift of her hips, every flicker of breath that made her breasts rise and fall. Blonde hair clung to her temples. She bit her lip, then pushed her hand inside. The silk stretched over her knuckles as she found her clit and circled. Her legs eased wider. The wetness was already there, slick and warm on her fingers. She exhaled through parted lips, arched her back, and pressed harder. The afternoon sun left a sheen across her thighs, catching each tremor as she rubbed deeper, faster, until her free hand clutched the edge of the chair for balance.