Home alone

Sandra’s wearing nothing but a whisper-thin pair of silk panties that hug her like a second skin. She slips her hand beneath the lace, fingertips tracing lazy circles over warm, slick flesh. A cool glass dildo rests on the sheets beside her, waiting. She wraps her fingers around it, sliding the smooth, weighty shaft between her thighs, pressing the rounded tip right where she’s already throbbing. The first slow push steals her breath. She rocks her hips up to meet it, letting the clear length glide deeper with every unhurried thrust. Light catches on the toy as it moves, slick with her excitement. She draws it out to the tip, then sinks it back in, a small smile curling her lips at how perfectly it fills her. Her free hand teases over her nipples, pinching lightly through the flimsy lingerie, urging the heat to climb higher. She sets a steady rhythm, breathing in short, sharp gasps, thighs quivering around the hard intrusion. When her climax finally hits, her hips jerk once, twice, and the soft moan that slips out is pure, satisfied release. She keeps the dildo buried inside her as the last ripples fade, savoring the way it still stretches her, until the room goes quiet again and the only sound left is her slowing breath.