

I didn’t plan to touch myself. I was just passing by the mirror after a shower — wet skin, towel barely holding on, hair dripping down my back. But I caught my reflection… the curve of my ass, the softness in my eyes, the wildness still hiding in my chest. And I stopped.
My hand went to my breast, then lower, slower… like I was touching a stranger I’d been craving for days. I didn’t rush. I teased. I whispered to my own reflection. And when I finally came, one leg propped on the counter, I swear the mirror shook with me 🖤