## Chills. Everywhere. Down my neck, down my spine, all the way to my toes.
That’s what happens every time I glide my fingers between the swollen lips of my dripping wet pussy.
It’s been three days since I’ve had my last orgasm and I’m going crazy. Life just gets busy, ya know? One thing turns into the next and eventually you and your husband become more abstinent than a catholic priest.
Speaking of my husband, thanks to my *very* considerate snoring, I am now awake at 430am on a Saturday. And since I’m the only one in the house who is awake, I’m going to take advantage of the rare quietness and fix this little problem of mine.
I throw my legs out from underneath the blankets and attempt to get out of bed as quietly as possible. Clumsily doing it in a way that resembles more of a trip and stumble rather than a tip and toe. But I leave the bedroom unscathed and walk down the hallway undetected.
Sneakily making my way into the bathroom, I shut the door behind me quietly, being sure to not to make a single noise. I then turn the faucet on to the bath, envisioning that the sound of the running water will soon be drowning out the sounds of my self-induced pleasure.