The couch felt so good beneath me, cool leather against my heated skin. I was already soaked with sweat from the teasing touches I’d given myself before even sitting down. I wasn’t trying to rush things—just letting the craving build, letting the need spread through every inch of my body. My panties were already clinging to me, wet from anticipation, my thighs slightly parted as my fingers trailed over my skin, warm and slick.I slid back, stretching my legs wide, my body sinking into the cushions as my hand slipped under the waistband. The first touch to my clit made my hips buck—so sensitive, already throbbing. I moaned softly, circling slowly at first, letting my back arch and my chest rise. I bit my lip, one hand still roaming my belly and breasts, squeezing gently, pinching my nipples while my other hand worked lower, faster, needier.I was dripping. My fingers moved easily, gliding through my folds, teasing my entrance, then back up to circle my clit again and again. I could feel it building—deep in my core, like a wave threatening to crash. I opened my legs wider, hips rolling, riding my own hand harder, chasing that pressure.The couch squeaked under me, my skin sticking to the leather, thighs flexing with every movement. My moans were getting louder now. I was breathing hard, chest rising and falling rapidly. My fingers pumped deeper, faster—wet sounds echoing in the room. I was so close. So fucking close.