One of my favorite sayings (and I can’t claim ownership of it, even after the 507th use) is: “idle hands go straight to the genitals.” But honestly, is that even such a bad thing?

I’m already naked. I shed my clothes to the bedroom floor and now lie on the bed. The ache deepens. My fingers slide down my neck. I shiver with anticipation. My nipples are already taught when my hands find them. I feel the ache intensify. I roll them between my finger tips and gasp as a pulse begins in my cunt. I squeeze my thighs together wanting so much to cum. My breasts are soft and full in my hands as I caress them. My chest heaves with anticipation. If only you were here to watch me.

I slip one hand down. I know what to do to ease the ache. I know how to satisfy myself. I know you know this and the thought of having you as a voyeur stokes the flames further. The decision now is to make it quick and hard or draw it out slowly. My fingers slide through the wetness pooling between my thighs. Slick juices coat my fingers and I spread it around my clit. I moan softly. Electric waves run through me as my fingers start to circle my clit. The room has disappeared. The outside world has disappeared. Desire, need, want is all I feel.

And sometimes, that “want” can swallow us whole.