Tales of Hidden Passion in "games to paly when bored"

Rain lashes the floor-to-ceiling windows in games to paly when bored. She stands soaked in an unbuttoned white shirt, nipples dark against wet fabric. In games to paly when bored, the shirt drops, and rain-cold skin meets warm palms. She backs against the glass, city lights strobing across her body while her hand disappears between her thighs for games to paly when bored. Every thrust of her fingers fogs the window anew. Thunder rolls just as her knees buckle in games to paly when bored; lightning flashes on her open mouth mid-orgasm. When the storm quiets, the only sound in games to paly when bored is water dripping from her hair and the soft click of her satisfied sigh against the pane.