Backstage of Mirror, mirror on the wall

Mirror, mirror on the wall. Sandee Westgate stands before it, tall and curved in all the right places, her full breasts high, her long legs cutting clean lines down to the floor. She watches her own reflection with those wide hazel eyes, lips parted, and runs her hands over her skin like she’s reading a story only she can feel. Her fingers drift lower, tracing the smooth folds between her thighs. She opens them, shows the pink inside, then lets the panties fall. Alone now, she touches herself—slow circles at first, then firmer, faster—eyes locked on the mirror, breath quickening until the pleasure peaks and her body answers with a long, rolling shudder. The reflection trembles right along with her.