Unlocking Hidden Erotic Pleasure in shoejob ballet flats

Rain lashes the floor-to-ceiling windows in shoejob ballet flats. She stands soaked in an unbuttoned white shirt, nipples dark against wet fabric. In shoejob ballet flats, the shirt drops, and rain-cold skin meets warm palms. She backs against the glass, city lights strobing across her body while her hand disappears between her thighs for shoejob ballet flats. Every thrust of her fingers fogs the window anew. Thunder rolls just as her knees buckle in shoejob ballet flats; lightning flashes on her open mouth mid-orgasm. When the storm quiets, the only sound in shoejob ballet flats is water dripping from her hair and the soft click of her satisfied sigh against the pane.