She lies in sheets of cotton, warm and white, her skin attentive to the subtle weight. Newly awake, her thoughts are soft and light, no worries yet to mar her thoughtful state. Her fingers wander gently to her thighs, slow and hungry, snaking in between: heat. Knees spread petal-like, her back arches high, breath held, she readies herself for release. Fingers circle, separate, and ignite, as he watches roses bloom in her cheeks — body rigid with pleasure, muscles tight, momentarily, until their eyes meet. If nothing else, today there will be this: self-love shared is an incomparable gift. Masturbating for an audience is not something that makes me very…