Red passion

She stares into the mirror, red lips parted, and feels the thrill shoot straight between her thighs. That crimson shade does it every time. The color speaks of heat and hunger, the kind she never holds back. Her fingers trace the curve of her breast, then slide lower. She settles on the bed, legs open, hand busy. Each stroke builds and tightens, the pleasure slow and shameless. Breath catches, hips roll. She moves faster, chasing the rush until it breaks and shudders through her.