I Was Already a Hot Bitch at 19

The light in my room was dim, shadows danced in warm gold across the walls. The scent of vanilla and something intangible—perhaps anticipation—hung in the air. I slowly closed the door behind me, as if to tell the world it must stay outside. On the bed, he waited: my trusted favorite toy. Large, elegant, made for my most secret hours. I traced my fingertips over the smooth surface, gently, as if it were a lover I’d missed for a long time. My heart pounded faster, my skin tingled. Slowly, I let myself sink onto the bed, feeling the cool sheets beneath me, as I lost myself more and more—in the warmth, the anticipation, the allure of the moment. Every breath grew shallower, my movements slower, more deliberate. I closed my eyes, letting myself drift. At first, just quiet sighs, barely audible, then something grew inside me that I couldn’t hold back anymore. The pleasure tightened through my entire body, my fingers digging into the bed, my back arching. I came—intense, wild, liberating. When I finally settled, a smile lingered on my lips. Everything was still, but inside, everything still vibrated—an echo of my own desire. I felt light, released, entirely present