Vilma Makes Her Bed Then Masturbates After

So, vilma masturbating is what got us here, but honestly, it started way before she even touched herself, right after she finished making the bed, which was the most mundane thing, flipping the blanket and straightening the pillows, but there was this tension building the whole time that I couldn’t shake, you know that feeling when your skin just starts tingling for no real reason, and as soon as she flopped down on that crisp, cool sheet, she let out this long sigh that turned into something else, and then very lazily, like she was thinking out loud with her movements, she peeled off her shirt, unclipped her bra, and shimmied out of her shorts, and it was so unhurried, like she wanted to savor every second of it, and I was just perched on the edge taking it all in, how she stretched out completely naked on her back, her furry mound on full display, and that patch of hair was so raw and unapologetic that it made my mouth go dry, so when she spread her legs a little further and dragged her fingertips down her belly, over her thatch, and finally pressed them exactly where she needed them, I could see she was already glistening, which meant she had been ready way before she even got comfortable, and then the slow circles started, her hips canting into her own palm, and I couldn’t say a thing because the only sound in the room was her breath coming in soft, shallow gasps that showed she was pacing herself on purpose, letting each wave of sensation build higher before she’d close her eyes tighter and quicken her pressure until her body got this involuntary little tremble before it melted back again, the wait making her so sensitive that just the warm indentation where she pressed down terraformed the entire mood into one feral category, and when the final surge finally took her under, she pushed her heels into the mattress, back arching up with a clipped noise from the back of her throat, savoring expiry ripples.