Forget-me-not

Serilla Lamante waits on the bed in black lingerie that hugs her curves, blonde hair falling loose over her shoulders. Her fingers slide down between her legs and rub slowly over the thin lace. She spreads wider, eyes half-closed, breath quickening. The panties are pulled aside. Bare skin glistens. She strokes in steady circles, hips lifting, chasing the heat building inside her. A soft moan escapes. Her fingers dip lower, teasing the wet folds until her thighs tremble. Every touch grows bolder. Her back arches, blonde strands cling to damp skin, and she keeps going, lost in her own rhythm.