Hidden Allure Behind gray booty shorts

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