Alone in my room

Caroline lay stretched across her bed, alone in the room, the air thick with the ache she carried. Her body wanted hands that weren't there, so she reached for her own. Fingers traced her skin slowly, teasing the need that burned low in her belly. She spread her legs wider and dipped two fingers between them, sliding over slick, warm folds already damp with want. Her breath caught, then slipped out in a soft moan as she stroked herself in steady circles, pressing harder each time her hips rose to meet her hand. She grabbed the toy waiting at her side and brought it down between her thighs, the smooth tip parting her before sliding in. She worked it deep, pulled it back, then thrust again, her wrist setting the rhythm her body demanded. The wet sound of each stroke filled the quiet room. Caroline’s eyes fluttered half-closed, her free hand gripping the sheet, her mouth open as the pleasure built and crested, sharper now, tighter, until the tension snapped and her back arched hard off the bed.