High spirits

She feels the spark run straight through her. It hits low, spreads fast. Sometimes that wild streak wins out. She lets it. Clothes come off before she even reaches the bed. Bare skin meets cool sheets. Her hands move with purpose. One slides between her legs. The other cups a breast, thumb brushing a tight nipple. She closes her eyes. Breath turns shallow. Fingers trace slick heat, part soft folds, press deeper. She knows exactly what she likes. Circles her clit in slow, steady strokes, then speeds up when her hips start to lift. She moans without holding back. The sound fills the room. Her thighs tense, relax, then shake as pleasure builds sharp and sweet. She keeps going until she falls apart on her own hand, gasping, flushed, glowing. Alone with her own high spirits, she smiles through the aftershocks.