My choice

She wears nothing but white lingerie, thin straps cutting across smooth shoulders. Sophie Moone stands still for a moment, letting you look. The lace sits tight over small, round breasts and cuts high on her hips, leaving almost nothing to hide. Then she moves. A slow turn, a soft brush of her own fingers along the strap of her bra. She slides one hand down her stomach, past the waistband of the panties, and cups herself through the fabric. Her breath catches. She presses harder, rubbing in slow circles until the thin material darkens with heat. She pushes the bra cup down, freeing one breast, rolls the nipple between her fingers, and the other hand keeps working lower. Her legs part. She pulls the panties aside, slips two fingers inside, and starts fucking herself in steady, wet strokes. The rhythm builds. Her hips rock forward, chasing each thrust, until her thighs shake and her breath breaks into short, sharp gasps. She comes with her fingers buried deep, head tipped back, blonde hair spilling across her shoulders. Then she eases her hand free, touches the slick on her skin, and smiles like she already knows exactly what you want next.