Nylons

Aletta likes nylons. She slips into black thigh-highs and matching lingerie, the sheer fabric clinging to her skin. She peels everything away piece by piece until she stands bare, then lets her hands wander over her own body. She stretches her feet toward the camera, arches them, flexes her toes, letting the light catch every curve. Her fingers slip lower, parting soft folds, and she works herself with steady purpose, legs spread wide, her nylon fantasy traded for bare skin and nothing else.