Pamela's Little Game

Pamela stands in pink and purple lingerie. The fabric clings to her curves. Her hands slide over her body. She touches herself without hurry, letting every motion speak for her. Fingers brush her nipples through the lace. She arches slightly, breathing deeper. Her palm presses between her legs. She rubs in slow circles. Each stroke draws a quiet moan from her throat. She never rushes. She simply enjoys the sensation. Her thighs part. She slips her hand beneath the fabric. Two fingers slide inside. She curls them. Her hips roll to meet her touch. The movements grow heavier. Her breasts spill forward as she leans over. She pinches one nipple, rolling it between her fingers while the other hand keeps working her slick center. She brings herself right to the edge, then eases back. The teasing makes her gasp. Her lips part. She tastes her own wetness on her fingertips. Then she starts again, faster this time. Her wrist twists. Her knuckles press her clit with every thrust. She bites her lower lip, eyes half-closed, and keeps going until the pleasure breaks over her in long, shuddering waves.