Pink

Pink is her obsession, and nothing else needs saying. She stretches across the bed in blush-colored lace that clings to every curve, the color soft against her smooth skin. Her fingers trace the thin straps of the lingerie, then slip beneath the waistband. She spreads her legs wider, breath quickening as she finds the heat already gathering between them. The touch is slow at first, teasing, then deeper, more insistent. Her hips shift with each stroke, chasing the rhythm building inside her. The blonde strands of her hair fall across flushed cheeks while her free hand cups a breast, thumb brushing the nipple through the sheer fabric. She moves with certainty now, fingers sliding in and out, circling her swollen clit in wet, hungry strokes. A low moan slips free. She bites her lip, eyes half-closed, completely lost to the pink heat pulsing under her touch.