Horny Solo: My Hand's No Match for My Craving

Locked in solitude, I squirm on the bed, my body aching for release. I trail my fingers down my chest, pausing at my nipples, tweaking them to hardened peaks. My hand ventures lower, finding my soaked slit, already slick with desire. I dip a finger in, biting my lip at the sensation, but it's not enough. I need more, need to be filled, stretched. I imagine a thick cock pushing into me, fucking me hard and deep. My fingers move faster, but it's not the same. I'm alone, and my horniness is a constant, throbbing companion.

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• Unknown