Good times

Olivya moves like she’s been waiting for this. She starts slow, slipping her dress down her shoulders, letting the fabric whisper over her skin. Lace clings to her in all the right places—black straps, sheer panels, a tiny thong that barely qualifies. She pauses, thumb hooked under the strap of her bra, eyes half-lidded, a small smile tugging at her mouth. Then the bra drops. Her tits are high and tight, nipples already stiff from the cool air. She cups them, rolls her thumbs, breathing deeper now. The thong follows, peeled down her hips, and she’s left bare, blonde hair falling forward as she sinks onto the bed. Her legs part, one hand sliding between her thighs. She rubs slow circles at first, just enough to make her hips twitch. Fingers dip lower, part her lips, dip inside. Wet sounds fill the room. She spreads wider, heel digging into the sheets, free hand pinching a nipple. Her pace quickens, breath catching, soft curses slipping out. She’s chasing it now, chasing hard, back arching, thighs trembling. One last sharp gasp and she comes, hips jerking against her hand, pussy pulsing around her fingers. She stays there, legs open, glistening, smiling like she just got away with something.