AmberVictoria

The wet secret of the forest

My bare feet pressed the moss, and its freshness was a delicious shock against the plant. I was on the edge, but my heart was beating to go into this thicket that smelled of wet land and mystery. The sun was a cheeky lover that crept through the leaves, painting my skin a feverish golden. My linen dress, soaked with dew, was now a sensual extension of myself. She clung unashamedly to the curve of my hips and climbed up to outline the taut shape of my thighs as she moved forward.. Every step was a contained sigh, and I could feel the wet fabric caressing my intimacy. I stopped before a gigantic trunk. I put my hands on the rough and rough crust. The feeling was so primary that I closed my eyes, tilting my neck back. The wild air raised my skin. Feel the hot sun on my throat, the cold of the fabric on my belly, the texture of the forest under my hands.. It was all an invitation to feel alive and exposed. I am here, I thought, completely naked of intentions, and this freedom makes me feel terribly desirable.. I want to get lost and be found, just by the wind and the light.

The map of my skin

I walked to the mirror, letting the soft light of the room envelop me. The music I had put on was at a low volume, just a murmur that accompanied the increasing rhythm of my breathing.. I stood still for a moment, watching myself. The outfit was simple, almost scandalous: a red silk top, tiny, barely covering my breasts, and a matching red panty that sank temptingly into the fold of my hips.. The mirror did not lie: the color was vibrant, a cry of passion against the pallor of my skin. I ran the tip of my tongue over my lips and my eyes focused on the reflection. I was not looking for an error, nor a judgment; I was looking for the enjoyment, the exploration of that body that is mine and only mine. My fingers moved first, slowly, almost timidly, towards the fabric of the top. I caressed the soft edge, just below the lower curve of my chest, following the ascending arch of my ribs.. I could feel the steady beat of my heart right below, an impatient drum. Then, with a motion that did not hesitate, I moved the top slightly up, letting the lower edge of my breasts peek out, pink and sensitive.. The nipples reacted to the fresh air and the tension of the silk, becoming hard like little cherries.. They were a focus, a magnet. I watched them in the mirror, marveling at the way my body responded to my own attention.. I closed my eyes for a second and took a deep breath, letting a wave of heat spread through my belly.. When I opened them, my hands were already positioned on my lower belly.. The fingers slipped over the bare skin between the edge of the top and the lace of the panty, a zone of softness and promise.. I pressed gently, massaging that delicate curve, feeling the hungry void just below my navel. It was a point of energy, and the vibrant red of the underwear intensified the feeling of danger and sweet anticipation.. I tilted my head a little, fascinated by my reflection. My eyes were bright, dark, as if a very sweet fever was rising inside. Now, the panty. My fingers slipped into the lace of her hip. The touch was exquisite. I followed the line of the fabric, stopping just where the elastic stuck into the groin fold.. I gently inserted a finger under the edge of the fabric. Not by the opening of the leg, but by the side, touching the upper and sensitive part of the mount of Venus. The contact was electric. A barely audible moan escaped my lips. The silk had given me permission, and now my own hand was taking possession. The sensation of the tightness of the panty lace and the tip of my finger pressing underneath was a delicious torture, a tension that built up hopelessly.. I walked closer to the mirror, my breath slightly clouding the glass. I focused on my eyes, in that look of owner of myself. My hands continued to explore, squeezing the top of my thigh, then back to my breasts to feel the firmness and beating.. The red was a flame, and I was burning. That body was a garden waiting to be explored.. by the only person who knew all her secrets.

The light crept through the crevices of the curtains, dyeing my room a pearl gray that announced the morning without urgency. I opened my eyes and found myself immersed in the cool embrace of my white cotton sheets. El reloj digital marcaba las 6:15 a.m., an unusually early hour for my body, which nevertheless felt deliciously awake. There was a deep calm in the house, that sacred stillness before the world set in motion. I stretched lazily, and the rubbing of the fabric against my naked skin (I always sleep without anything) sent a chill that wasn't cold.. I stood up, leaning on one elbow. The fabric crumpled gently under my weight. The truth is that I felt an unusual energy, a latent curiosity that seemed to have awakened with the sun. I caressed the inside of my thigh with my palm, an instinctive gesture, and the softness of the skin reminded me what my body was asking for in this moment of total privacy.. Nobody would see me. Nobody would interrupt me. The bed, my sanctuary, the sheets, my silent accomplice. I slid my hand up, slowly, letting my fingers rub the edge of my pelvis. I felt the light sweat of the night and the pulse that began to accelerate. I lay down again, now on my back, and closed my eyes. Everything became touch. My breath got deeper. With a last determined movement, my hand sought the center, that zone so sensitive and mine. The first touch was shy, just a rubbing with my fingertips, but it was enough for a barely audible moan to escape my lips.. I moved instinctively, bending my knees, opening up just for myself. I began to explore, slowly and deliberately, feeling the smoothness of my folds and the moisture that was already beginning to appear. The rhythm was cadential, exploratory. Soft pressure, circles. Searching, knowing where to find the switch of my pleasure. When my fingers found the small, throbbing mound, a rush of heat ran through me.. I let out a long sigh. It was as if that part of my body had been waiting for this moment of exclusive attention. I raced up the beat, the feeling was now sweet and pungent. I clung to the sheets with my free hand, wrinkling the fine white cotton, looking for support on the bed.. The muscles of my abdomen tightened slightly. The image of my body, free and surrendered, under the light of dawn, was powerfully exciting.. The outside world blurred. There was only the rubbing, the beating, the humidity and the heat that grew. I let myself be carried away by the sensation, concentrating only on the pleasure I was giving myself.. My hips rose a little from the sheets, following the rhythm that my hand marked. Every caress was a promise fulfilled. And then, it all intensified. Breath stopped for an instant, and an explosion of pleasure shook me. A delicious shudder ran through my body, and the white sheets felt softer than ever.. I let go of the air in a long, shaky gasp. I stood there, still, feeling the echo of my climax. The pulse slowed, and the morning calm returned, sweeter and deeper than before.. I opened my eyes. The sun now entered with more force, illuminating the wrinkles in the white sheets that kept my secret. I was alone, satisfied, and ready to start the day. There was a special glow in the air, the glow of a pleasure that was entirely mine.