Alone and yearning, a girl turns to an unusual companion for solace. She clutches a cushion, its softness a poor substitute for human touch, yet her body responds eagerly. She grinds against it, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she imagines it's something, someone, else. Her fingers find their way beneath her clothing, exploring her wet, throbbing center. She fantasizes, her body arching as she nears the edge, her cushion a willing participant in her forbidden, fetishistic dance of desire.