Naughty Natalia

Natalia just turned up. She’s nineteen, fresh off the plane from England, and already she has the room staring. A tiny frame packed into a short skirt and an even smaller top. The fabric clings, then falls away, and she’s naked in seconds. Her breasts sit high, pale and firm, nipples tight from the cooler air. She turns once for the camera, shows the round lift of her ass, then drops onto the edge of the bed with her knees apart. Her hand moves straight between her legs. Two fingers slip through the slick folds—those plush outer lips part easily—and she sinks them in to the second knuckle. A short gasp, then a slower, deeper push. She works herself in tight circles, knuckles glistening, breath quickening. The wet sound grows louder each time she draws her fingers out and drives them back in. She leans back on one elbow, hips lifting to meet her own hand, eyes half-closed, mouth open, completely lost in the rhythm she’s making.