Petite girl

Jenny Noel had a week alone in the old vacation house. She read, she walked, she roamed the grounds. By the final day her body had begun to hum with an unspent restlessness. She’d packed the dildo but hadn’t used it once. Tonight she intended to change that. She climbed the creaking stairs to the loft and let her shorts drop to the floor. The evening light slipped through the shutters in narrow gold strips, painting her bare skin as she climbed onto the bed. Her fingers skimmed between her thighs, already slick, and she brought the toy to her mouth, wetting it with slow, languid strokes of her tongue. When she pressed it to her clit the first low throb made her breath hitch. Jenny pushed the smooth head inside, inch by inch, until her cunt swallowed every inch. She moved with steady, deliberate thrusts, pausing each time the tip nudged the spot that made her thighs quiver. Her free hand drifted to her nipples, pinching and rolling until they stood tight and aching. The air smelled of dust and old wood, and somewhere below a floorboard sighed beneath a settling breeze, but up here nothing existed except the wet sounds of her cunt taking the toy again and again. Her hips lifted off the mattress, chasing the pressure, and when the wave finally broke she bit down on her lower lip, a soft, guttural moan escaping as her walls clenched hard around the dildo. For a long moment she stayed stretched and trembling, the toy still buried deep, savoring the slow pulse of release. By the time her breathing evened, the sun had dipped below the windows and shadows crept across the sheets. She drew the toy out with a wet slide, set it aside, and smiled into the darkening room. That had been the vacation’s real highlight.