Garden Party Huntress
I step out of my bath, drying myself in a large, soft towel. It is wrapped around my shoulders, my hands clasping the top corners as I dry myself; my cheeks, my neck, down the swell of my breasts and under them, my armpits and then sides. I run my hands down my torso, holding the plush white cotton to my skin as my long, thin fingers slide across my flat belly, my belly button, down my tummy. I slip the towel down my shoulders, cradling it with my cheeks as I dry my hips, the soft fibers of the...