Home alone

The house is quiet. Sophie lets the front door close behind her and kicks off her heels. No chores today. She peels the fitted top away, then the skirt, leaving a soft trail of fabric across the floor. Her body uncoils with each layer, bare skin catching the afternoon light. She stretches out on the couch, one hand gliding between her thighs, the other tracing the curve of her breast. Fingers slip lower, slick already, pressing and circling until her breath breaks into low moans. The leather cushion darkens beneath her as her pussy grows wetter with every stroke. She rides the edge, thighs trembling, hips rocking, until the orgasm tears through her, sharp and bright, leaving her gasping and spent.