Preparations

Sophie Moone sits in the cramped dressing room, legs parted over the low stool. She rubs foundation across her cheekbones with quick, precise strokes, then sets the brush down. Tension still knots her shoulders. Her hands slide down the sheer stockings until her fingers slip beneath the white lace of her panties. She strokes the thin cotton once, twice, then pushes the fabric aside. Two slender fingers part her lips and sink in, slow at first, then faster, knuckles glistening each time they pull free. She leans back, breath hitching, and circles her clit with the same steady rhythm, thighs trembling as she rides her own hand to the edge.