Cindy caught backstage

Cindy stands alone backstage, already flawless without a trace of make-up. She slips her fingers under the hem of her robe and lets it fall open. Her dark hair brushes her bare shoulders as she glances around once, then pushes two fingers straight into her pussy. She works them deep, her wrist moving in a steady rhythm, each stroke making her lips glisten. Her free hand cups a breast, thumb circling the nipple until it stands tight. She leans back against the dressing table, thighs parted, eyes half-closed, breath short. The wet sound of her fingers fills the small space. She brings herself right to the edge, then pulls away just enough to feel the ache before plunging in again, harder, chasing the release she’s promised herself before the cameras roll.