Home alone

Jo slips inside, kicking the door shut behind her. The quiet settles thick. She smiles to herself, already unbuttoning her blouse as she walks. Blonde hair catches the light from the window, falling across one bare shoulder once the fabric drops. A sheer black bra stays on for now, barely covering the swell of her small breasts. She steps out of her skirt next. Black lace panties match the bra, cut high on the hips. Jo runs her palms down her stomach, feeling the warmth there. She sinks onto the couch, legs parting without thought. Her fingers trace the edge of the lace, then slide beneath it. A soft sound leaves her as she finds how wet she already is. She moves slowly at first, learning the rhythm she wants. Her free hand pushes the bra cup aside, thumb brushing her nipple until it tightens. She watches the movement of her own wrist between her thighs, breath catching each time her fingertips press deeper. Jo's hips lift slightly off the cushions. She bites her lower lip, then lets her mouth fall open. The strokes grow faster, more focused, circling the spot that makes her thighs tremble. The lace stays pushed to one side, soaked through now. She doesn't stop when her breathing turns ragged. She keeps going, chasing the tight heat building low in her belly until her back arches and her hand stills, fingers buried inside herself as the release washes through her in steady pulses.