Wearing nothing but a black lace bra, matching boy-short panties and her four-inch stilettos, she walked into her bedroom and tossed the dress over the back of the armchair in the far corner. She crossed to the bed and threw back the crimson-colored duvet, then dragged the satin top sheet off the mattress. Carrying the sheet into the living room, she draped it haphazardly over the enormous, high-backed sofa that served as the centerpiece of the artistically decorated room. Next, she retrieved a tall, oscillating fan from the hall closet, plugged it in, positioned it to blow on the sofa and cranked it to high. She stood in front of the stream of air for several minutes, letting the wind tunnel she’d created cool her hot, dewy skin. The quick change in temperature tightened her nipples behind the lacy cups of her bra. The breeze from the fan on the moist crotch of her panties was as stimulating as fingers brushing over the sensitive spot, a whisper of a touch along her pussy lips. The fine layer of perspiration that covered her chest and belly felt less sticky and oppressive as it chilled with the light gust coming her way.
