Solitude under the shower: a tale of introspection

In the dim light of a modern bathroom, a solitary figure stood under the steady stream of a rain shower. The silhouette was of a woman with full body, her thick hips swaying slightly as she adjusted her stance, never standing on her toes. Her hair cascaded down in wet waves, clinging to her perfect figure. Small nipples peeked through the steam, hardened by the cold water. Her eyes, perfect orbs of wisdom and vulnerability, stared intently at the tiles below. Good hands with perfect fingers traced patterns on her shaved pussy, a sight that left no room for judgment.