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She sits alone, her body yearning for touch, for sensation. Her hands, tentative at first, begin to explore, to caress. She traces the softness of her skin, the hardness of her nipples, the wetness of her desire. Her fingers delve deeper, finding the rhythm that sets her body alight. She moans softly, her hips moving in time with her hand, her body tensing as she climbs higher and higher, until she crashes over the edge, her body shuddering with the force of her orgasm.