I know what I like.

My legs extended in front of me, strong, smooth, soft. Toenails painted red, relaxed gently over my crossed ankles. I like the sight of myself. I reach my arms up and wrap them together lazily over my head. I can smell myself when I tilt my head towards my shoulder, my unwashed skin and sweaty perfume. My small breasts rest with constant alertness. Sometimes they are fuller, today they look like happy little ski jumps perched above my bronze belly. The silver ring is as a part of me as my own flesh and leads to the goosebumps that travel down towards the rectangular patch of fine dark hair hidden beneath my panties. The moisture. The labyrinth of sensations and pleasure. The part of me that I know best and share selectively. The power and ecstasy of my 

40 year old vagina.