The light from the window was sharp, cutting through the blinds in uneven strips. It wasn’t soft or golden—it was just light, bright and intrusive. I blinked, my eyes adjusting, but my body was already moving before my mind caught up. My legs shifted under the sheets, restless, and I could already feel the ache between my thighs, low and insistent.  

Fuck, I’m so wet already. Didn’t even have to think about him this time. Just woke up like this—needy, throbbing. I can’t ignore it. I don’t want to.

I didn’t think about it, at all. My hand slid down my stomach, fingers slipping under the waistband of my underwear. The fabric was damp, clinging to me, and I could feel how wet I was already.  

God, that’s embarrassing. Soaked through. But it’s… good. Feels good. Just need to take the edge off. Quick. Before anyone hears.

My breath hitched as my fingers brushed against myself, the touch sending a jolt through me. I pressed down, circling my clit slowly at first, testing the pressure. My hips jerked involuntarily, and I bit my lip to keep quiet.  

Fuck, that’s—right there. Don’t stop. But softer. Too loud. Can’t let them hear the bed creaking. But I need it harder. Fuck it, just—do it.

The house wasn’t silent. I could hear my flatmates downstairs, their voices faint but there, a reminder that I wasn’t alone.  

Shit, they’re laughing about something. Coffee brewing. Don’t care. Let them stay down there. Let them never know how bad I’m dripping right now. How badly I need to come.

I spread my legs wider, my knees falling open, and my fingers moved faster, the wetness making it easy, almost slick. I could feel the heat building, spreading through me, and I pressed harder, my touch rougher now.  

Yes, yes, like that. Fuck, I’m so close. Don’t slow down. I want to imagine it’s him. His hand, not mine. His thumb grinding into me, his voice in my ear: ‘You’re such a slut for this, aren’t you?’ God, yes. I am. I fucking am.

My breath came in short, uneven gasps, and I turned my face into the pillow to muffle the sound.  

I shouldn’t be thinking about him. I really shouldn’t. But his face, that smirk. How he’d pin my wrists down. How he’d fuck me raw, not caring who hears. Fuck, I miss his hands. Miss his cock. Miss how he’d make me scream.

I didn’t stop. My fingers worked in tight circles, the pressure just right, and I could feel myself getting closer with every stroke, tighter.  

I’m gonna come. I’m gonna—no, wait. Not yet. Make it last. But I can’t. I need it. I need it now. Ohh fuck, I’m gonna…

My toes curled, and my free hand gripped the sheets, twisting them into a fist. I rocked my hips against my hand, chasing the feeling, desperate for it. The ache was almost too much, a coiled tension that needed to snap.  

I imagine him here. His mouth on my tits. His cock pushing into me, stretching me. ‘Take it,’ he’d growl. ‘Take all of it.’ I would. I’d let him slide into me. Let him use me. Just to feel full. Just to feel something.

In my head, I saw him. Not some vague fantasy, but him—his hands, his mouth, his cock.  

Remember that time in his car? His fingers in my mouth, his other hand ripping my jeans open. How aroused I was, how hard he was.  Fuck, I came so hard I saw stars.I want that again. I want him to own me. To make me his.

I could almost feel the weight of him on top of me, pinning me down, his breath hot against my neck. I imagined his fingers digging into my hips, his cock pushing into me, stretching me open, filling me completely.  

He’d call me names. Dirty ones. Tell me I’m his little whore. And I loved it. I’d beg for it. ‘Please, fuck me harder. Please, I need it.’ God, I’m pathetic. But I don’t care. I need this. I need him right now.

The thought made me gasp, and I pushed two fingers deeper inside myself, curling them just right. My back arched, and I rocked against my hand, the sensation sharp and electric.  

Deeper. Fuck yourself harder. Pretend it’s him. Pretend he’s pounding into you, his hips slapping against yours. His sweat dripping onto your skin. His voice saying ‘Come for me. Now.’ 

It didn’t take long. The tension coiled tighter and tighter until it snapped, and I came so fucking hard, my body shaking, my fingers still working, drawing out the feeling as long as I could.  

Fuck. Fuck. FUCK. Don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop. Oh god, I’m coming—I’m coming so hard. Yes. Yes. YES. Let it ruin me. Let it break me. I don’t care.

I bit down on the pillow to keep from crying out, my thighs trembling, my heart pounding in my chest. The pleasure was raw, almost too much, and I rode it until I couldn’t anymore, until my body went slack, spent and trembling.  

Shit. Shit. That was… fuck. Better than I thought. Better than him, maybe. No—don’t think that. Don’t ruin it. Just… breathe. Just lie here. Soaked. Used. Perfect.

When it was over, I lay there, breathing hard, my skin damp with sweat. I could feel the wetness between my legs, soaking through my underwear, and I didn’t care. 

For a few minutes, nothing else mattered. Not the light creeping into the room, not the voices and sounds from downstairs, not the rest of the world waiting outside. It was just me, my body, and the quiet, raw satisfaction of release.