Petite teen

Dominique is already breaking the mold. A petite blonde with legs that go on for days, she skips the usual runway routine and turns the lens on herself instead. Alone in her room, she slides her hands beneath the hem of her dress, feeling her skin warm under her own touch. She kicks off her heels, lets the dress fall to the floor, and stretches out on cool sheets. Her small fingers move slowly at first, tracing circles that make her breath catch. When her hips start to lift, she slips one finger inside, then two, working them in a steady rhythm that has her biting her lip. The soft sounds she makes fill the quiet room, and every flick of her wrist brings her closer. She arches, thighs trembling, and comes hard, breath ragged, blonde hair fanned across the pillow.