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Lying completely nude on her bed, Angela Sutherland felt as though her soft skin were on fire. From her fingertips to her hot, swollen nipples down to her damp, smoldering cunt, every voluptuously curved inch of her body tingled, the flesh seared by a maddening, insistent internal heat.
She groped with trembling fingers for a cigarette from the pack on the nightstand, and noticed the illuminated dial of her alarm clock. It was three o’clock in the morning, the middle of another sleepless, sexually frustrated night.
Angela thought about the thick ten-inch plastic vibrating dildo in her dresser drawer and she sucked greedily on the cigarette — she thought about the device and the temporary relief it could give her. It had already deflowered her, technically speaking, although she had never had sex with a man.
Then, inevitably, she thought about the man, or rather boy, nearest to her in the lonely night, the one whose cock might do the job. There was a healthy nineteen-year-old stud in the very next bedroom.
“All these years”, she whispered to herself in the dark bedroom. “All these god damned lost, wasted years … my whole tucking life … without sex, without a man … a man! God — how I hunger for one now!”
Fictional reading for entertainment purposes only.