Just Stopped Fingering My Wet Pussy for You

She knows exactly what she's doing to you.

Her fingers slide into her wet pussy, slowly, teasingly, as she holds your gaze. You feel your pulse quicken, your breath catch, your hand reaching down. Her breasts rise with each deep breath, her nipples hardening under your gaze. She moans softly, her lips parting, inviting you in.

She strokes herself, her rhythm matching the ache growing in you. You can almost hear her gasps, feel her wetness. Your hand moves faster, your edge nearing. But she pulls back, posing for you, her legs wide open, her pussy glistening. You ache to touch her, to taste her. She teases you, bringing her hands up to her breasts before lowering them again.

Her eyes never leave yours, daring you to keep watching, to see how long you'll last. And then, just as suddenly as it started, it's over. But the heat remains, the desire still burning. To see more of her, to feel more of her...