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