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“She was clothed in something more luxurious, a silk kimono slipping off her bare shoulders. With her eyes still closed, she caressed her body, imagined someone else doing the same, finding her skin smooth, supple, and delectably creamy. In her mind's eye, she saw rumpled white linens, glowing skin, and a vase of flowers on the bedside table, filling the room with their delicate fragrance. With a deep inhale, the body she touched was no longer flabby, it was soft, yielding, and beautiful.” — Francesca Serritella
She was clothed in something more luxurious, a silk kimono slipping off her bare shoulders. With her eyes still closed, she caressed her body, imagined someone else doing the same, finding her skin smooth, supple, and delectably creamy. In her mind's eye, she saw rumpled white linens, glowing skin, and a vase of flowers on the bedside table, filling the room with their delicate fragrance. With a deep inhale, the body she touched was no longer flabby, it was soft, yielding, and beautiful.