Chill

Winter bites. So she slips into a day of heat and silk. Steam lifts from flushed skin. Then the pool waits. She peels off what little she wears, bare in the open air. Cold water licks at her. Her hand moves between her thighs, fingers sliding through slick heat. She parts herself wider, a silver toy catching the light. Metal presses inside, opens her, shows everything. She gasps. The sun warms her stomach while her body tightens around the cool intrusion. She holds it there, breathing slow, letting the ache build.