In her naughty mind

Eva drifts in her chair, a little smile tugging one corner of her mouth as the dirty ideas rush through her head. They slip straight between her thighs, turning her smooth skin slick. In her thoughts she plays every game she can dream up, slow and teasing or raw and shameless, while her own fingers slide over the same place that’s aching for touch. She circles, presses, dips lower, and comes once, then again, riding each fresh pulse until her thighs tremble and the chair creaks beneath her.