My little hole ?

She barely takes up the frame — small shoulders, narrow hips, that particular kind of delicate that makes your hands feel enormous just looking at her.

Your eyes trace downward slowly, the way you would if she were right in front of you, close enough to feel the heat coming off her skin.

Everything about her is tight, compact, built for the specific pleasure of feeling overwhelmed — and she knows exactly what she's doing, angling herself so you see just enough to want considerably more.