Private striptease

She flashes that wicked little grin at the camera. “Want to see more of this body?” The question hangs in the air, warm and teasing. Her tank top lifts slowly, exposing a flat stomach and the faint rise of her ribs. She tosses the shirt aside; the bra is next, unhooked and dropped. Full, bare breasts meet cool air and her nipples tighten instantly. She cups them, thumbs rolling over the stiff peaks, and lets out a soft sigh. The tiny denim skirt follows. She bends at the waist, panties stretching tight over her round ass, then she slides them down and kicks them away. Fully nude now, she settles back against the pillows and parts her knees. Her fingers trace slow circles around her clit before gliding lower, spreading her slick folds. Two fingertips press inside, gentle at first, then deeper, the wet sounds of her pussy loud in the quiet room. She bites her lower lip, hips rolling to meet each thrust. Her free hand never leaves her breasts, pinching and tugging while the tension builds. A flush spreads over her chest. Her breathing grows short and ragged. She curls her fingers, thumb flicking her swollen clit, and comes hard— thighs quivering, pussy pulsing tight around her hand, a soft, breathless cry escaping her lips. Her fingers slow, then slip free, shining. She smiles, lazy and satisfied, eyes still locked on the lens.