Cheeky

Britney stands before the mirror and peels her top away. Small breasts rise with each breath. She rolls her shoulders back, proud of the slim lines she shows. Her hands glide down her sides, slow at first, then bolder. Fingers slip under her waistband, push the fabric down. The room is quiet except for the soft sound of skin on skin. She cups one breast, pinches the nipple until it tightens. The other hand slides between her thighs, finds heat already waiting. She parts her legs, watches herself in the glass, eyes half-closed. Every stroke is deliberate. She sinks onto the edge of the bed, knees wide, hips tilting to meet her own touch. Her fingers move faster, then slower, teasing. A small, sharp breath escapes when she presses deeper. She keeps her gaze locked on her reflection, enjoying how the blonde hair falls across her cheek, how her body answers each caress. The pace quickens again, her free hand gripping the sheet, until her thighs tremble and her mouth opens in a silent cry. She stays like that for a moment, breathing hard, a smile curving her lips at how easily she pleased herself.