The Scarlet Room

Sandy keeps a scarlet room inside her mansion. She rarely shows it to anyone, but tonight the heavy curtains are drawn for us. She steps inside wearing nothing but a thin lace bodysuit, pale nipples already tight against the fabric. The shade of red seems to soak into her skin. She stretches out on the velvet chaise, legs falling open without a thought, and slips her hand beneath the crotch of the lingerie. Two fingers slide over slick folds, parting them, pressing in. Her breath catches. Eyes half-closed, she works them deeper, rocking her hips in a slow, greedy rhythm. The lace stays on, stretched taut against her knuckles as she fucks herself harder, chasing the pulse that started the moment she locked the door.