Fetish girl

Brandy wears the black latex like it was poured over her. Shiny, tight, and impossible to ignore. She stands alone, but the room feels crowded with heat. Her hands move slowly at first, tracing the slick surface across her hips. Then lower. She presses her fingers to the narrow strip between her legs and rubs in small circles, letting the latex cling and stretch with every motion. Her breath catches. The fabric creaks. She shifts her weight, spreads her thighs a little wider, and works her fingers deeper against herself. The movement grows quicker. The suit squeaks with each stroke. Her free hand slides up to her chest, gripping the curve of her breast through the rubber until her nipples push hard against the shine. She keeps going. Focused. Her hips roll in time with her fingers, chasing the ache she’s built between them.