He's caught her playing with herself, rolling about in auto-erotic pleasure amid the sheets. She was moaning and gasping to her own amusement, clad in the leather she'd bought from the town that day - the labelled boxes and bags strewn about the floor told him this.
Surely she wanted to be found like this. Who would make such an effort alone?
Regardless, she wants him to come to her.
Her leg, half-eaten by the thigh-high boot she wears, is dangling off the side of the bed. She kicks it cutely, her right hand buried beneath the covers, beneath her panties.
"Come..." she whispers again.
