Moments of Desire in long pink socks

Rain lashes the floor-to-ceiling windows in long pink socks. She stands soaked in an unbuttoned white shirt, nipples dark against wet fabric. In long pink socks, 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 long pink socks. Every thrust of her fingers fogs the window anew. Thunder rolls just as her knees buckle in long pink socks; lightning flashes on her open mouth mid-orgasm. When the storm quiets, the only sound in long pink socks is water dripping from her hair and the soft click of her satisfied sigh against the pane.