The house is still, the world outside muffled by the closed windows. She lies back, her body aching for release. Her hands, skilled and patient, trace the familiar terrain of her skin. She dips beneath the waistband of her panties, her fingers finding the wet, throbbing center of her desire. She arches into her touch, her breath coming in quick gasps. The room fills with the scent of her arousal, the sound of her pleasure. She brings herself to the edge, her body tensing, her mind filled with the image of her husband's face, his voice whispering her name. She shatters, her body convulsing, her cry of release echoing softly in the empty room.