Amanda Baby wasn't born yesterday

Amanda looks sweet on the surface, but that doesn't stop her from turning her bedroom into her own private playground once the door clicks shut. She knows what she wants and wastes no time slipping out of her panties. Fingers already wet, she drags them over her slick skin, circling and pressing until her thighs start to tremble. Each breath gets shorter, every stroke more greedy, and before long she’s rocking against her own hand like it’s the only thing that matters. She moans into her pillow, hips lifting, chasing the edge she’s learned how to ride again and again. Just when she’s trembling on the brink, she slows down, stretches the moment, drags it out until her body begs. Then she starts all over, because she’s in no hurry and no one’s stopping her.