Behind Closed Doors: Tales of Sensuality in "istj character"

Rain lashes the floor-to-ceiling windows in istj character. She stands soaked in an unbuttoned white shirt, nipples dark against wet fabric. In istj character, 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 istj character. Every thrust of her fingers fogs the window anew. Thunder rolls just as her knees buckle in istj character; lightning flashes on her open mouth mid-orgasm. When the storm quiets, the only sound in istj character is water dripping from her hair and the soft click of her satisfied sigh against the pane.