Romantic Escapades in car wash wet shirt

“car wash wet shirt” opens with soft morning light spilling across white sheets. She wakes alone, hair tousled, wearing nothing but an oversized shirt. Fingers slip beneath cotton, tracing lazy circles that quicken as memories flood back. In “car wash wet shirt” her breath hitches when she pinches a nipple, thighs falling open. The shirt rides higher, exposing glistening arousal. She reaches for the vibrator on the nightstand—slow at first, then urgent. “car wash wet shirt” captures every gasp, every tremble, until her entire body tenses and shudders in a sunlit orgasm that leaves her glowing and spent. (192 words)