Quiet hours

Jessy slips into the library room with the door barely shut. Sunlight slants across her bare legs and catches the pale blonde in her sheer black lace lingerie. She drops into the corner armchair, parts her knees, and runs her fingers straight under the thin fabric. No hesitation. Her other hand cups one full breast, thumb circling the stiff nipple through the lace. The room stays silent except for the soft, wet sounds she makes as she works her clit in slow, deliberate circles. Every so often she glances toward the open doorway, smiling when footsteps pass outside. She pushes two fingers inside, hips rocking, breath catching, tits rising with each quick stroke. She doesn’t stop when the door creaks. She just keeps going, legs open, head back, lost in her own pleasure while anyone nearby could walk in and watch.