Pure

She sits alone in white silk that clings to every soft curve. The fabric parts when she moves, offering flashes of smooth skin. She watches herself in the mirror, eyes wide and guileless, then lets one hand slip lower. Her fingers trace the thin strip of lace between her thighs before pulling it aside. Slow strokes turn urgent. She shifts, kneeling on the sheets, and reaches for the toy beside her. The first press parts her gently. The second slides in alongside, stretching her open in one long, trembling breath. She rocks her hips, breath catching, taking both at once until the pleasure breaks and leaves her shaking in the pale dress.