The word 'casa' echoes in her mind as she touches herself, each stroke a testament to her solitude, her isolation. Her body responds, her nipples hardening, her breath coming in short gasps. She imagines hands other than her own, a body pressed against hers, but it's just her, alone, in her casa. Yet, there's no shame, only the pure, unadulterated pleasure of her own touch, her own exploration. She comes, her body convulsing, her cries of release filling the empty casa.