sakuracity100 ... 70. Desire
Title: Self-Satisfaction
Theme: 70. Desire
Rating: R
Character: Tifa Lockheart [ onlyherwords ]
Word Count: 420
Warning(s): Self-loving, aka masturbation.
It’s always during the middle of the night - no earlier or no later - that she finds herself waking from a dream, her body trembling and sweating, the covers gripped tight between her fingers and knuckles going white. She feels ashamed for even having the dream, knowing that it just that: a dream. To even think about him in that way - and she has, many, many times - causes a blush to heat her cheeks and a dull ache between her legs.
He would never know about this. She was good at keeping these things quiet from him…
And the dream is always the same. She thinks about it every time she wakes from it, her hand working on the buttons of her night shirt and easing it off, nails running down along the now bare skin and over a scar that marks her body. She pictures them as his hands, like in the dream. Further, further, further. Her hand travels along a path; over the curve of a breast and down a toned stomach, dipping against the navel and to the hem of her bed shorts. Those and her underwear are quick to disappear.
Then she’s there, hand teasing and touching. Caressing in a way that she only knows how. In a way that she tries to remember from a dream.
Eyes close and her imagination goes at it as a finger slips inside, greeted by a warmth of wetness and muscle. It moves, joined by another, as little shivers run down her body and whimpers slip from the back of her throat. Arching and panting, moving faster and writhing at the touch. Giving into the build up within her own body as fingers curl and press and probe against that spot.
She gasps and shudders, a tiny whimper of a name lost in the sea of silence of the room as her body jerks and spasms to the oncoming pleasure. Release. She finds it in a muffled scream to the pillow and the loss of her fingers from where they had been busying themselves tells her it’s over.
She lies there breathing, trying to calm her body and bring herself back down from the high she finds herself on. Tries to relax and swallow past the heavy lump in her throat.
When it’s all over and she’s relaxed she pulls the bed sheets back over her body, shivering at the cold of the room and hugs herself tightly. Only in a dream and through self-satisfaction will that ever come true…
Theme: 70. Desire
Rating: R
Character: Tifa Lockheart [ onlyherwords ]
Word Count: 420
Warning(s): Self-loving, aka masturbation.
It’s always during the middle of the night - no earlier or no later - that she finds herself waking from a dream, her body trembling and sweating, the covers gripped tight between her fingers and knuckles going white. She feels ashamed for even having the dream, knowing that it just that: a dream. To even think about him in that way - and she has, many, many times - causes a blush to heat her cheeks and a dull ache between her legs.
He would never know about this. She was good at keeping these things quiet from him…
And the dream is always the same. She thinks about it every time she wakes from it, her hand working on the buttons of her night shirt and easing it off, nails running down along the now bare skin and over a scar that marks her body. She pictures them as his hands, like in the dream. Further, further, further. Her hand travels along a path; over the curve of a breast and down a toned stomach, dipping against the navel and to the hem of her bed shorts. Those and her underwear are quick to disappear.
Then she’s there, hand teasing and touching. Caressing in a way that she only knows how. In a way that she tries to remember from a dream.
Eyes close and her imagination goes at it as a finger slips inside, greeted by a warmth of wetness and muscle. It moves, joined by another, as little shivers run down her body and whimpers slip from the back of her throat. Arching and panting, moving faster and writhing at the touch. Giving into the build up within her own body as fingers curl and press and probe against that spot.
She gasps and shudders, a tiny whimper of a name lost in the sea of silence of the room as her body jerks and spasms to the oncoming pleasure. Release. She finds it in a muffled scream to the pillow and the loss of her fingers from where they had been busying themselves tells her it’s over.
She lies there breathing, trying to calm her body and bring herself back down from the high she finds herself on. Tries to relax and swallow past the heavy lump in her throat.
When it’s all over and she’s relaxed she pulls the bed sheets back over her body, shivering at the cold of the room and hugs herself tightly. Only in a dream and through self-satisfaction will that ever come true…