Tina's Solo Time
Tina was nineteen, still living under her parents’ roof in the quiet suburban house at the end of the cul-de-sac. She had the whole upstairs to herself most evenings while her mom and dad watched television downstairs, the low murmur of some crime drama drifting up the stairs like background noise.
Tonight the heat was unbearable and the only relief was the weak ceiling fan in her bedroom spinning lazily overhead. Tina stood in front of the full-length mirror on her closet door, wearing nothing but the tiny orange thong that barely covered the cleft of her ass. The matching micro bikini top lay discarded on the floor. Her skin was already glossy with a light sheen of sweat, the kind that made every curve look wet and inviting.
She turned sideways, studying the way her small, perky tits sat high on her chest, pale pink nipples already stiff from the combination of heat and the filthy thoughts circling in her head. Her blonde pigtails bounced when she moved. She reached back and gave one of them a playful tug, then slid her hand down the smooth plane of her stomach until her fingers brushed the thin orange string of her thong.
“Fuck,” she whispered to her reflection.
She was soaked already. The fabric between her legs was dark with it. Tina hooked her thumbs into the sides of the thong and peeled it down just enough to expose the smooth, shaved lips of her pussy. A thin string of clear arousal stretched from the gusset to her skin when she pulled the material away. She bit her lower lip and pushed two fingers between her folds, coating them immediately.
Downstairs the television volume rose for a commercial. Tina’s heart kicked harder. She loved this, being half-naked and dripping while her parents sat oblivious only one floor away. She spread her feet wider on the carpet, arched her back, and started fingering herself in earnest, watching every dirty detail in the mirror. The wet sounds of her cunt were soft but unmistakable in the quiet room. She added a third finger, stretching herself open, and used her other hand to pinch and roll one stiff nipple until it ached.
A floorboard creaked somewhere in the hallway. Tina froze, fingers still buried knuckle-deep inside herself. Footsteps, slow, familiar. Her dad’s. She didn’t pull her hand away. Instead she locked eyes with her own reflection and kept slowly pumping her fingers in and out, the orange thong stretched tight across her thighs. The footsteps stopped outside her door for a long second, then continued past toward the bathroom.
Tina exhaled a shaky laugh and dropped to her knees on the carpet. She yanked the thong the rest of the way off and tossed it aside, then crawled over to the edge of her bed. Face down, ass up, she reached back with both hands and spread her cheeks wide, giving the empty room a perfect view of her glistening pink hole and the puffy, dripping lips of her pussy. She spit on her fingers and rubbed the saliva over her clit in tight circles, hips rocking back against nothing.
“God, I need to get fucked,” she muttered into the mattress. “Right here. With the door unlocked. While they’re both downstairs.”
She imagined it in filthy detail, someone walking in, seeing her like this, not saying a word, just grabbing her hips and slamming into her until the bed frame banged against the wall loud enough for her parents to hear. The fantasy made her cunt clench hard around her fingers. She shoved three of them back in as deep as they would go and fucked herself roughly, the wet slap of her hand against her soaked flesh filling the room. Her other hand stayed busy on her clit, rubbing fast and mean.
Tina’s thighs started to shake. She buried her face in the sheets to muffle the high, broken sounds she was making. Her orgasm hit hard and sudden, cunt fluttering and pulsing around her fingers, a fresh rush of slickness coating her hand and dripping down onto the bed between her knees. She kept rubbing through it, milking every last tremor until her legs gave out and she collapsed sideways onto the bed, chest heaving, blonde pigtails sticking to her sweaty neck.
For a long minute she just lay there, fingers still lazily stroking through the mess she’d made of herself. The television downstairs laughed at something. Tina smiled, sticky and satisfied, and reached for the orange thong again. She didn’t bother putting it back on properly, just held the soaked fabric against her cunt and pressed, letting it soak up more of her.
Tonight the heat was unbearable and the only relief was the weak ceiling fan in her bedroom spinning lazily overhead. Tina stood in front of the full-length mirror on her closet door, wearing nothing but the tiny orange thong that barely covered the cleft of her ass. The matching micro bikini top lay discarded on the floor. Her skin was already glossy with a light sheen of sweat, the kind that made every curve look wet and inviting.
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She turned sideways, studying the way her small, perky tits sat high on her chest, pale pink nipples already stiff from the combination of heat and the filthy thoughts circling in her head. Her blonde pigtails bounced when she moved. She reached back and gave one of them a playful tug, then slid her hand down the smooth plane of her stomach until her fingers brushed the thin orange string of her thong.
“Fuck,” she whispered to her reflection.
She was soaked already. The fabric between her legs was dark with it. Tina hooked her thumbs into the sides of the thong and peeled it down just enough to expose the smooth, shaved lips of her pussy. A thin string of clear arousal stretched from the gusset to her skin when she pulled the material away. She bit her lower lip and pushed two fingers between her folds, coating them immediately.
Downstairs the television volume rose for a commercial. Tina’s heart kicked harder. She loved this, being half-naked and dripping while her parents sat oblivious only one floor away. She spread her feet wider on the carpet, arched her back, and started fingering herself in earnest, watching every dirty detail in the mirror. The wet sounds of her cunt were soft but unmistakable in the quiet room. She added a third finger, stretching herself open, and used her other hand to pinch and roll one stiff nipple until it ached.
A floorboard creaked somewhere in the hallway. Tina froze, fingers still buried knuckle-deep inside herself. Footsteps, slow, familiar. Her dad’s. She didn’t pull her hand away. Instead she locked eyes with her own reflection and kept slowly pumping her fingers in and out, the orange thong stretched tight across her thighs. The footsteps stopped outside her door for a long second, then continued past toward the bathroom.
Tina exhaled a shaky laugh and dropped to her knees on the carpet. She yanked the thong the rest of the way off and tossed it aside, then crawled over to the edge of her bed. Face down, ass up, she reached back with both hands and spread her cheeks wide, giving the empty room a perfect view of her glistening pink hole and the puffy, dripping lips of her pussy. She spit on her fingers and rubbed the saliva over her clit in tight circles, hips rocking back against nothing.
“God, I need to get fucked,” she muttered into the mattress. “Right here. With the door unlocked. While they’re both downstairs.”
She imagined it in filthy detail, someone walking in, seeing her like this, not saying a word, just grabbing her hips and slamming into her until the bed frame banged against the wall loud enough for her parents to hear. The fantasy made her cunt clench hard around her fingers. She shoved three of them back in as deep as they would go and fucked herself roughly, the wet slap of her hand against her soaked flesh filling the room. Her other hand stayed busy on her clit, rubbing fast and mean.
Tina’s thighs started to shake. She buried her face in the sheets to muffle the high, broken sounds she was making. Her orgasm hit hard and sudden, cunt fluttering and pulsing around her fingers, a fresh rush of slickness coating her hand and dripping down onto the bed between her knees. She kept rubbing through it, milking every last tremor until her legs gave out and she collapsed sideways onto the bed, chest heaving, blonde pigtails sticking to her sweaty neck.
For a long minute she just lay there, fingers still lazily stroking through the mess she’d made of herself. The television downstairs laughed at something. Tina smiled, sticky and satisfied, and reached for the orange thong again. She didn’t bother putting it back on properly, just held the soaked fabric against her cunt and pressed, letting it soak up more of her.
26-30, F
