Pink girl

When she slips into the pink dress, the innocent comments start. She knows what they mean. She smiles anyway. Underneath the fabric her body already feels electric. The lace touches her skin and she presses her thighs together, feeling the heat rise. A hand slides between her legs. She rubs slowly at first, then faster, breath catching with each stroke. The dress rides up. She pulls it higher, baring pale skin and the wet heat she can't ignore. Fingers sink deep and she moans, raw and open. Every movement says the same thing: she wants more.