Leg lust

She slips into a hot bath first, letting the water loosen every inch of her skin. Out comes the massage oil, cool against warm flesh. She rubs it slow over her feet, then higher, letting it gleam on her calves and thighs. The blonde in lace lingerie stretches across soft sheets, big ass rising with each lazy shift of her hips. Her legs slide together in long, wet strokes—skin on skin, slick and tight—each pass sending a fresh shiver straight between her thighs. She draws one knee up, rolls onto her stomach, presses her feet together and strokes them in lazy circles, heels and soles catching every spark. Her fingers trace the oiled sheen higher, teasing the tender crease behind her knee, then back down again, never rushing. The rhythm builds, short, sharp rubs alternating with long, sensual glides. Every movement makes the fabric of her lingerie whisper against her skin, and her breath catches when her thighs squeeze tighter, chasing the heat that blooms with each slick pass.