A rumble of thunder stirred her, a flash made her eyes flutter. Was it the storm that charged her? Only she knows.
Long fingers lightly touch her nipples, hard pink nubs, rise in the night. She sighs as she pinches them, harder. Her body stirs, feeling the delicious heat build. Hands move down her stomach, creating her own goosebumps.
She always goes to bed, wearing just cotton panties. Something about them, ever since she first touched herself. She loves the way the panties accent her body, her lips when she soaks through them, like she is now.
"MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM." Her lips swell, her fingers trace their shape. Chills go through her as lighting flashes. Rumble echos a few seconds later.
Her finger tips find her clit, hard, protruding through cotton fibers. Her long legs spread. More lighting, thunder, rain drenching the windows. Her panties are just as drenched.
She licks her lips, her body moves like a dream. Not one finger, but three, equal pressure from the tips, push down on her clit. They press, turn, now circling, a non stop stirring of the batter, her old boyfriend use to say.
Her free hand grips the sheet, her body rises and falls. Her mind spins like her clit, her wetness spreads to her thighs.
Her breath is labored, harsh gasps mix with the thunder. Harder and harder, her tips bear down. Faster, her fingers circle, a steady flow pours through the cotton.
Her scream flashes with the lighting, pure pleasure releases through her body as her room is lit like day.
She gasps, moans follow, until she smiles so sweetly.
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Touch
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