Natural beauty

Iwia looks carved from marble. She moves the same way. Nothing about her feels posed. Her skin is bare now, her dress gone, and she lets the light touch every inch. No rush. She spreads her legs wide on the bed and rests her fingers on the soft skin between them. The small, slow circles she draws there make her stomach tighten, her nipples stand up. Her breathing changes. One hand stays on her thigh, holding it open, while the other works her clit in a steady rhythm. Her hips start to lift into her own touch, meeting every stroke. She breathes through parted lips, eyes half-closed, lost in the feeling she is giving herself. Nothing hidden. Nothing forced. Just her, open, wet, and completely present.