Silver hair spilling across the pillow, the older woman’s fingers trace slow wet circles around her swollen lips. Bed sheets bunch up under her ass as her back arches just enough to expose more. A quiet gasp escapes her throat before she bites down on her lower lip, eyes squeezed shut. Fingers dip deeper, knuckles disappearing between thick thighs, the wet sounds filling the room. She shifts her hips upward, grinding against her own touch, the floral sheets clinging to her sweat-slicked skin. How much longer can she hold back before she gives in to the ache?
