In the solarium

Winter stays mild, but cold air still bites, so I skip the terrace and head for the solarium instead. Fifteen minutes alone under the lamps, just me and the heat. I step inside, let the door click shut, and feel the glow hit my skin before I’ve even undressed. The room hums, steady and warm. My fingers move over each strap, each button, until nothing’s left between me and the light. I stretch out on the bench, legs easing apart to catch every ray. My hands slide along my stomach, over my breasts, down between my thighs. I’m already wet. I circle my clit, slow at first, then faster, hips lifting to meet my own touch. The blonde hair across my stomach catches the artificial sun, soft and bright against flushed skin. A low sound slips out. My thighs tremble. I press two fingers inside, stroke deeper, chasing the heat that builds under every beam. One sharp breath, another, then release rolls through me, tight and sweet. When it’s done I stay still, letting the lamps finish their work, my skin tingling, my breath easing back to quiet.