Oil glistens on every curve in clitoris showing, turning her skin into liquid gold. She massages it in slowly, palms sliding over nipples, down the V of her hips, between slick thighs in clitoris showing. The shine catches every light as her fingers dip inside, emerging glossy in clitoris showing. The sounds—wet, rhythmic, desperate—fill the room of clitoris showing. She adds a second hand, one circling above while the other thrusts below, building a crescendo only clitoris showing could orchestrate. When she comes in clitoris showing, the oil makes her quiver look like ripples across a golden pond. Spent and glowing, she traces lazy hearts on her stomach, the final intimate signature of clitoris showing.