She’s supposed to be studying. But it feels so much better to touch herself and listen to the video that’s playing in the background. Listen and touch herself. Listen and touch herself and giggle.
Stef can’t remember why this is supposed to be important. But it was, right? Whatever, it couldn’t have been very important if it’s all slipped away now, leaving Stef with just a book in front of her, her nipples rubbing through the thin fabric of a crop top and her fingers stroking her wet folds.
But it’s so hot, listening to the sounds of the video though she couldn’t quite hear what they really were saying. They weren’t words, exactly.
But she felt them all the same.
A warm fuzzy feeling settled between her thighs and spread upwards until everything felt good. She hummed along with the low moan coming through her headphones while her other hand squeezed her boobs. Big and soft like giant marshmallows. Fun to play with.
This is fun. She could do this forever and ever, right? It was all so perfect and happy and bright that nothing made sense outside of the warmth building between her legs.
Another soft moan. More words. Not really words, because she didn’t hear them so much as she felt them, pressing against her skin. Gently probing and caressing, tickling her insides.
It was strange, though, feeling the feelings from the words, not hearing them.
Where were the words? And what was this voice anyway, making her feel so amazing and bubbly inside?
She was supposed to be doing something. Studying? No. Stef doesn’t care about books or college or anything like that.
What she does care about is feeling good. So good that the only thing keeping her from sliding two fingers into herself and riding this wave until she shatters into a thousand orgasms is the tiny bit of self-consciousness left that whispers this is bad. This is weird. What is going on?
Everything is clear as long as Stef can keep touching herself, as long as she’s pleasuring her needy body with fingers stroking, and twisting, and plunging, and flicking at her swollen bud, her focus fades and the reality of where she is blinks back into view.
Her fingers slip inside. She arches up, thrusting herself against her hand. Two digits pump hard, her palm grinding on her clit, working herself closer and closer to sweet release.
Faster, faster.
Her phone screen lights up, the red RECORD button beckoning and Stef understands what she’s supposed to do.
She presses the play button and licks the fingers of her other hand, tasting herself. Then she grins. “Ready for a show, boys?”