Another Hot August Night
The woman lies naked on her bed, the cool air from the pedestal fan brushing over her body as she strokes her nipples langorously. The dream had been so vivid, so sensual, and she has woken up in the early hours with a heavy throbbing between her legs. The heat and humidity has made her sweaty, too, and she can feel the dampness of the bedsheet against her back. The wetness from her aching cunt has not yet spilled far enough to soil the sheets, but it is only a matter of time, she knows. Desire like this is like the magma from a volcano, with unstoppable heat and liquid oozing unchecked from fiery caverns.
Where is he? Her lover? Did he leave while she was asleep? Sure, they are just a fling, but he would usually at least stay until the morning. She can’t hear any sounds from the bathroom. She must be alone. One hand continues to stroke a hard bud of her nipple, while the other slides down over her belly, and into the little hairy triangle of her mound. Fingers pinch at the nipple, and pull at the little tufts that frame her swollen labia, and she spreads her legs wider, enjoying the sensation of the fan’s breeze against the pool of wetness that is seeping from between her lips and coating her vulva.
She pulls the lips upward, exposing the prepuce and the hood of her clitoris to the air, and with slow, gentle strokes, begins to massage. Circular motion, to start, to tease…
