The audience becomes invisible as the lights dim.
A lone spotlight casts a pool of light around the big chair. The spotlight warms her nude body in the cool room.
Schiava stands at the sideboard and examines the accouterments, tentatively touching each in turn, as if making a selection but passing on each. The diminutive blonde selects the equine phallus, briefly examining it before putting it back.
She steps around the sideboard to stand before the chair. She bends to adjust it, briefly putting her derriere on display as a tease to the audience. Turning to face them, she seats herself on the oversized throne of a chair.
Hands resting on her knees, she sits up straight, cross-legged, her delicate flower moist with dew, exposed for all to see.
Her fingertips move down from her knees, caressing her inner thighs, continuing up across her taut belly to her large firm breasts. She leans back and stares into the invisible audience, fingers swirling around her breasts.
She pinches and pulls her erect nipples, eyes closed, eliciting an involuntary moan. She continues teasing her nipples, edging herself, feeling her orgasm begin to rise, the heat building inside her.
She stretches, arms overhead, back arched. She is trembling, her legs shaking, clearly fighting the urge to cum.
"Mmm...ARGH!" she exclaims, coming back from the edge and chasing away her orgasm for now, hands gripping the arms of the chair.
Schiava relaxes, regains her composure, and peers into the darkness, her pretty green eyes penetrating it with lust. She smiles and challenges herself to make at least one of them cum with her.
Her hands travel back down across her sensitive nipples, across her tight abs to her wetness. Her fingers stir her creamy honeypot. She rubs little circles around her engorged button, faster and faster they move, and she approaches the edge once again. Her fingers moved quickly in and out of her spasming body.
She stares intently into the darkness. A low growl builds along with the heat inside her as her fingers push her right up to the razor's edge.
"Mmm...RAWR!" she exclaims and throws her legs over the arms of the chair.
She pulls her fingers away to clutch her knees tightly. Her body shudders, breathing hard but she does not orgasm.
That was close. It was becoming increasingly difficult to stop at the edge, soon she would push herself over it.