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