Bathing time

After the bath she stands naked on the cool tiles. Her skin still holds the heat. She reaches for the bottle and pours a slow ribbon of oil across her fingers. The liquid glistens against her smooth lips. She spreads it with lazy circles, pressing each fold until every inch shines. Her middle finger slips inside, tight walls closing around it, and she starts a steady rhythm that grows quicker with every stroke. The wet sound fills the room. She leans back, knees apart, letting the oil run down her thighs while her finger drives deeper, faster, chasing the next shiver.