Fuck fiesta

New Year’s Eve hits different. I had one shot left before 2005 slipped away, so I opened the door in nothing but black lace and let the night inside. The blonde hair fell across my shoulders, tits heavy against the bra, and I knew exactly where my fingers were going. I leaned back on the couch, legs spread, and touched myself until the room felt too quiet. Then the ache hit. I slipped a finger lower, opened myself up, and let that first tight slide take me. Midnight cracked somewhere outside. Inside, my body answered with a rush that left me shaking, open, and still hungry for the stretch that was coming next.