Sheila's legs

Her legs command attention. Long and smooth, they stretch out before her, each line defined by careful muscle. Sheila moves her feet slowly, toes flexing, arches curving. She slides a finger from her ankle upward, tracing the skin until her palm rests behind her knee. The lingerie hugs her hips. Her ass presses against the couch, full and firm. She spreads her thighs, then closes them, enjoying the soft friction. With her eyes half-closed, she touches herself, the motion steady, deliberate. Her breasts rise and fall with each breath, but it is her legs that hold the moment. Every shift of her knee draws the eye lower, until nothing else seems to matter.