Calming down

Sandy slipped into the tub, water lapping warm at her skin. She was still thinking about that message—Sam getting himself off, picturing her right there in the bubbles. She smirked. He was nasty, but she liked it. Her hands moved without thought, drifting over her breasts, down between her thighs. She spread her legs, the motion sending small ripples across the surface. One hand stayed on her chest, rolling a nipple between her fingers, while the other found her clit and pressed slow circles into it. The water made everything slick, every touch sharper. Sandy let her head tip back, eyes half-closed, breathing through parted lips. She pictured Sam’s eyes on her, his hand moving faster at the thought of her like this—alone, legs open, chasing that calm he’d joked about. Her hips rolled, chasing friction, and when she finally came her moan echoed off the tiles. The water settled around her, the tension gone, at least for now.