Milky way

Kathia knows milk keeps you strong. She just skips the glass. A glimpse of lace clings to her bare skin, the fabric slipping away as she settles back on the bed. One knee drops open, then the other. Her fingers brush the swell of her breasts before they glide lower. She parts her lips, the pink folds already glistening, and presses two fingers inside. Slow circles, then harder strokes, until her hips lift to meet her hand. Breath quickens, thighs tremble, and the plastic bottle waits beside her. When she is dripping, she takes the nozzle, pushes it deep, and lets the cool liquid flood her. A rush, a shiver, a sigh that melts into a long, unhurried moan.