Late Night Routine

She was still wiping her face with the edge of her shirt after doing her nightly routine before bedtime. The movement between the exchange of hand, face, and shirt would flash a smooth, pleasantly round curve of belly and the heavy undersides of her free-moving breasts. Her bra long ago discarded for the sake of comfort.
A small ‘O’ would form across her pretty lips then as she padded into her room, yawning softly. The soft, cool green light that flowed across the warm colors of her room gave the space an almost hazy glow. Clicking on her fan with a limp, almost heartless fingertip she’d slide a knee up then on the surface of her smooth, cotton-knit comforter. She’d been feeling the hum between her thighs for hours now since he’d left her to go to work, her teasing usually had a habit to backfire, like a sadistic double-edged sword; so her movements into bed were a bit speedy.
Almost instantly, the moment her thumb slid over the switch to her lamp, she slid back down so her heavy eyelids hit the pale, shadow-strewn ceiling above her. Sighing contently, she felt her body’s excitement grow. It wasn’t long before she felt her own hand slide, as if possessed, down the line of her body. She brushed her breasts, the combination of her soft fingertips and the cool air humming from her fan making the nipples pert and budded.
She gasped as her hand found its soft, fuzzy destination; the folds between her parted legs already moist. A jolt slithered down her spine as her fingers slowly traced a circle around the swollen pearl of flesh just hidden behind those wet folds. Holding down on her bottom lip with her teeth as she worked, her hand folded so that her middle and index finger danced in a continuous swirl, ‘round and ‘round her clit. Each moment that went by she’d slowly add pressure behind the circles, the images flying through her head behind those tightly closed eyes spurring on her play.
For a moment she paused, sliding the longest finger slowly into the dark, pink wetness she’d created. The digit slid in almost without resistance from the amount of sweet mess that’d built. Her voice threatened to come out then again as she slid that now dripping finger up and down that throbbing bit of flesh above her entrance, feeling her own juices speed her movements around her swollen nub. She felt her breath catch, the pressure building, her hips moving now rhythmically as her brain and body reached their overload.
Her free hand moved then up to her breasts, her nails and fingertips torturing the beaded ends of them.
She stifled her cry outwards then, her head tossing to the side as she bit the edge of her pillow, coming silently as she could. Her tightly shut eyes let out no images of just what her mind was going off of for material. Her breath was heavy as she came down, almost whimpering, the movement of her hand slowing then as the circles near-stopped. She loved to feel the wave of pleasure ebb slowly off on it’s own, flowing in and out across her skin like wave of trembling warmth; the added sensation of continuous circles on and around her clit made her body shake and twitch far too much if the touches were continued after she came.
Slowly then… She’d go again, her movements faster, almost frantic, as her world came crashing all around her a second time. This time a small, breathy moan squeaked by her trembling lips. Her chest moved, her breasts gently swaying beneath the soft hold of her tank top as her body trembled to another pinnacle of pleasure courtesy of the very fruitful, vivid imagination she had roiling behind her closed eyes.
And as they say… Once more for good measure, she went once more.