Before bedtime

Bedtime is the best time. I wander my room in a thin slip of lingerie, the rest of the world shut out, and the night belongs to me. My fingers start slow over the lace, tracing warmth through the fabric, then slip beneath. A soft sigh, a deeper press, and the real show begins. The satin crotch grows wet as I circle my clit, legs parting wider, hips lifting off the bed. I push two fingers inside, tight and hot, fucking myself slow at first, then harder when the need sharpens. The lace strap of my bra slides off one shoulder; I never bother to fix it. Every stroke, every grind, is for me alone, and the sheets end up twisted around my thighs while I chase that last, perfect pulse.