Whispered Desire: danny d india summer

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