Couch creaks under her weight as she shifts, scissors glinting in the low light. The older woman’s dark hair falls over her shoulders while her fingers tap the blades against her thigh. Leaning back against the cushions, she parts her legs just enough to flash a glimpse of black lace before her skirt rides higher. A slow grin spreads as she drags the cold metal along her collarbone, her free hand sliding up her own thigh. The room hums with quiet tension, her eyes locked on the unseen target as the scissors snap open and shut.
