Ravishing red

Red hair spills over her shoulders like warm silk. She stands there in nothing but sheer black lace, the kind that barely hides what it covers. Her fingers trace the waistband of her panties first, then slip beneath. She presses her palm against her pussy, feeling the heat already building between her thighs. A slow circle, then another. She bites her bottom lip as two fingers find her clit and stay there, rubbing with steady pressure. Her hips start to move with the rhythm, pushing back against her own hand. The lace cups her small tits, nipples stiff underneath, begging for attention. She gives them some, pinching one lightly while her other hand works faster between her legs. Her breath comes quicker now. She spreads her legs wider, finds a better angle, and sinks two fingers inside herself with a soft, wet sound. Her thighs tense. She pulls the fingers out glistening, circles her clit again, then pushes back in. Every stroke makes her wetter. She watches herself in the mirror across the room, eyes half-lidded, mouth open. The lace stays on. She works around it, under it, through it, until her legs start to shake and her fingers move in tight, desperate circles. When she comes, it's with a sharp gasp and her whole body curling forward, one hand braced on the dresser, the other still buried between her legs.