What's next?
Three minutes
She's completely naked now, bare to the yard, the first stars watching her from above. Her fingers push deeper, curling against the soft spot inside her, and she lets out a thin, keening whine, her hips lifting to meet her own hand.
The pool filter hums. The water laps at the tiled edge. And Izzy lies on the lounger, legs spread wide, fingers buried inside herself, three minutes ago taking photos for her boyfriend and now losing herself entirely to the night.

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