Playboy Centerfolds - Episode 2

She moves like she knows the camera is already in love with her. Skin smooth, a fine sheen catching the low light. The lace of her bra clings tight, nipples pushing hard against the thin fabric as she leans back and lets her thighs fall open. Her panties sit low on her hips, trimmed down the center, the black edge barely covering her cleft. She hooks her thumbs in the straps and slides them down her legs in one clean motion, the fabric brushing her ankles before she kicks them free. She stands, unclasps the bra, and lets it fall. Her breasts settle full and warm, the weight natural, nipples flushed and tight. She cups one in her palm, rolls the tip between two fingers, and a small sound slips out of her. Her hand trails lower, fingertips parting soft folds, finding the slick warmth already there. She presses in with two fingers, slow and deliberate, hips tilting forward to meet the rhythm. Her breathing quickens, lips parted, eyes half-closed. She pulls the fingers out and rubs the wet across her clit, small circles that make her thighs tense. When she climbs onto the bed she stays on her knees, ass high, shoulders low. She reaches back between her legs and pushes those same fingers back inside, deeper now, knuckles disappearing. The muscles in her forearm flex with each thrust. The sound is wet and steady, her breath catching every time her palm slaps against her skin. She works faster, the bed shifting under her, her free hand gripping the sheets. Her hips roll, pushing back, taking her fingers to the knuckle and holding there, trembling. A flush climbs her chest, spreading over her throat. Her mouth opens wider but no words come, just the rough catch of breath and the slick drag of fingers sliding in and out. She stays like that until her thighs shake, until the rhythm breaks, until she sinks forward onto the bed with her hand still trapped between her legs.