Pretty in pink

She slips into pink lace that looks painted on. The color flares against her warm skin and black hair, making both richer. She says the shade turns her on before she even touches herself. Hands trail down her body, slow, deliberate. She cups her breasts, thumbs circling stiff nipples through the fabric. A soft sigh slips out. Then the lingerie comes off. She lies back, legs parting without shame. Her fingers find her wet slit and start a lazy rhythm, circling her clit until her hips twitch. Every stroke is unhurried, savoring the build. She sinks two fingers inside, pumping while her thumb keeps working that swollen nub. Her breathing turns ragged. She rolls onto her stomach, ass up, reaching back to keep fingering herself from behind. The new angle makes her moan louder. She grinds against her own hand, chasing the heat building low in her belly. When she comes, it’s sharp and sudden, thighs shaking, fingers buried deep until the last pulse fades.