Innocence

Leanna Sweet returns, red hair catching the light, a smile that promises trouble wrapped in charm. She moves with the ease of someone who knows her body well, fingers tracing the edges of her lingerie as she sinks onto the bed. The fabric clings, sheer enough to tease, her skin warm beneath it. She parts her thighs slowly, breath deepening as her hand slips lower. Each stroke builds with quiet purpose, the kind that comes from wanting it, needing it. Leanna doesn't rush. She lets the tension gather, lets her hips lift to meet her own touch. Her other hand drifts across her chest, pinching, squeezing, pulling more feeling from her. The lingerie shifts with her, straps sliding, cups falling away. She arches, red hair spilling over the pillow, lips parting on a soft sound. Her fingers work faster now, chasing that sweet ache she knows how to give herself. She comes with a low gasp, body tightening, then melting into the sheets. The scene closes on her breathing, skin flushed, the kind of satisfaction that lingers.