Behind the Curtain of alex blaze: Stories Unfolded

“alex blaze” is morning light through lace curtains. She wakes tangled in white sheets, hair wild, skin warm. The first thing “alex blaze” shows is her hand slipping beneath cotton panties already soaked from dreams. Lazy circles turn urgent; fabric darkens under her touch. She kicks the sheet away, knees falling open, giving “alex blaze” an unobstructed view of fingers plunging in and out, thumb relentless on her clit. Sunbeams dance across trembling thighs. In “alex blaze”, she comes quietly at first—then louder, back bowing off the mattress, crying “alex blaze” like a prayer into the empty room as pulses milk her fingers dry.