Elegant in black

She turns slowly so the lamplight slides over her. The black satin clings like poured ink, the cups low enough that her breasts sit high, pale skin meeting lace at the edges. Nothing underneath. A faint sheen already blooms across her chest. Her thighs are long and bare above the fishnets, the tight diamond mesh digging softly into the flesh. She slips two fingers under the bodice, pulls it down, lets one nipple pop free, then drags the nail across the tip until it tightens. Her breath catches. She tilts her head, watching the effect in the mirror, and her other hand slides down her stomach until the fingers rest between her thighs, pressing the thin fabric against the heat there. She breathes through parted lips, eyes half-lidded, testing how much she can feel through the lace. The silk slips under her touch, warm and damp now. She bites the corner of her lower lip, presses harder, a soft sound escaping as the first shiver moves through her.