Glamorous Girl

Chelsey Lanette stands tall in nothing but sunlight and heels. She knows the game. A tilt of the hip, a slow drag of fingers over silk, and men forget what they meant to say. She peels the last scrap of lace away, takes her time, lets the cool air kiss the curve of her breast. With one lazy hand she cups herself, squeezes just enough to feel the pulse under her thumb. The other hand wanders lower, finds the seam already slick, and teases it apart. A small toy waits on the nightstand. She brings it to her mouth first, licks it slow, then slides it home with a sigh that sounds almost polite. Her hips lift. Her knees fall open. She works the toy in tight circles until her breath stutters and her free hand fists the sheets. When she comes, it is quiet, controlled, like a secret she plans to keep.