Moans fill the car interior as the silver-haired woman’s fingers work between her parted thighs, her skirt hiked up just enough to show wet pink slipping between slick folds. Back pressed against the passenger seat, her hips lift slightly with each circling motion, her free hand gripping the armrest hard enough to leave marks. Every flick of her wrist pulls a shaky exhale, her lips parted but no sound escapes except the wet slide of skin on skin. Dark eyes locked on the rearview mirror, she bites her lower lip as her body tightens, thighs trembling before she stills completely. The car’s dome light casts soft shadows across her flushed face as she exhales long and slow, her chest rising and falling in time with the aftershocks.
