Upskirts

When she slides the hem of that tiny skirt upward, the air feels charged. A blonde in front of you, eyes half-closed, one hand already between her thighs. Her fingers brush the thin cotton first, then push it aside so you can see everything. She strokes herself slowly, the slick sound of skin on skin filling the quiet. The skirt stays high, just enough to frame what she’s showing—pink, swollen, glistening. She bites her lip, spreads her legs wider, circles her clit with two fingers until her hips lift off the seat. A quiet moan slips out, then another. She doesn’t look away. She keeps that skirt lifted, that pretty little cunt on display, and keeps rubbing until her breath breaks and her thighs start to shake.