Tight

She steps into frame wearing a glossy one-piece lycra catsuit that clings tight to every curve. The slick black fabric stretches over her breasts and pulls taut across her hips, outlining every dip and swell. She turns slowly, giving the lens a clear view of her full, round ass as it flexes with each small shift of weight. Her hands glide down her sides and over her backside, pressing the material so close it looks painted on. She bends at the waist, spreading her stance just enough to show how the suit rides high between her cheeks, and lingers there, tracing slow circles with her palms. Fingers drift lower, stroking the seam that runs between her thighs, and her breath catches as she rubs herself through the thin layer. The pressure makes her hips roll forward in a slow, hungry grind. Her free hand slips up to squeeze one breast, pinching the stiff nipple that pokes against the tight fabric. She straightens, turns again, and drops into a squat that deepens the cleft of her ass before she rises, dragging her fingers over her own skin. Her movements stay unhurried, deliberate, focused on the way the lycra clings to her pussy as she rubs harder. A soft, pleased sound escapes her when the friction hits just right, and she keeps working her fingers between her legs, hips rocking in a steady rhythm that never quite breaks the surface of the suit. She stays alone, eyes half-lidded, lost in the tight, slick feel of her own body.