Tan line from panties still visible where she spread her legs. Hairdresser’s nails dig into his wrist as he strokes himself slow, watching her bite that plump bottom lip. She leans in like she’s about to kiss him—then grabs his hand and guides it between her own thighs. Wet already, no teasing needed. ‘You shouldn’t be touching me like this,’ she breathes—but neither of them stops.