Wrapped in a cozy robe, she enters her bedroom, the scent of pine and cinnamon still lingering from the night before. Her hand slides beneath the fabric, finding her wet, swollen clit. She circles it, her breath hitching as pleasure builds. The house is silent, but for the faint ticking of the clock, counting down the seconds to her holiday explosion. Then, a creak from downstairs. She stops, her body tensing, as the moment is lost, her orgasm eluding her, leaving her in a state of festive frustration.