Private party with Peaches

Peaches always lingers once the music dies. Tonight the room belongs to her alone, glass in hand, nothing left to distract her. She stretches out on the couch, dress sliding higher with each sip. Heat pools low in her belly. She sets the drink aside, parts her thighs and lets her fingers wander first. The blonde sighs, slow circles drawing wetness to the surface. When her breath shortens she reaches for the toys, both smooth and waiting. One glides over slick skin, the other presses lower, teasing. She eases the first inside, hips rolling, then guides the second in beside it. Her body stretches, taking both at once. The brunette on the screen mirrors the rhythm without mercy. Peaches gasps, works deeper, faster, until her shoulders tighten and her mouth falls open in a silent cry.