Barely legal

Yulia Bright steps into the room like someone still testing the lights. She is barely legal, blonde, and already breathing differently. The cotton on her skin feels loud. She tugs once, twice, then lets the fabric slide down her hips and pool at her feet. Naked now, she drops to the bed, knees apart, one hand sliding between them before the mattress even settles. Two fingers move slow at first, circling the slick heat she’s carried here with her. Her other hand finds a breast, squeezing until the nipple hardens against her palm. Eyes half-closed, lips parted, she rocks her hips in short, greedy strokes. The air fills with the soft, wet sound of her cunt yielding to her touch. Her moans stay low, private, like a secret she’s sharing only with the quiet room.