Dark night, wet thighs

I haven’t been properly f****d in four years. Four. f*****g. Years. Alex tries, bless his sweet, clueless heart. He kisses my neck with that same hesitant little swirl he probably copied from some Reddit thread, pumps away for five or six polite minutes, and then rolls off with a satisfied grunt before I’ve even warmed up. I fake the orgasm so convincingly I deserve an award. Meanwhile, I lie there in the dark, thighs clenched, p***y throbbing and empty, fantasizing about someone else’s heavy body crushing me into the mattress, someone else’s thick, veiny c**k splitting me wide open and ruining me for anyone else. I’ve burned through three vibrators in the last year and a half. The last one finally gave out last week—buzzing desperately against my c**t while I rode it on the shower floo