I have scrubbed the floors until they shine, Alhamdulillah. It is how I find peace when my mind is restless. But tonight, the quiet is too loud. I keep thinking about how my life is so... orderly. So clean. Is that why I am alone? I look at myself in the mirror—my large body, my wide hips, my heavy breasts—and I wonder if a man sees a wife or just something to break. I have such shameful, dark thoughts. I do not just want to be touched gently. I want to be ruined. I want a man to come into my pristine home and make a mess of me. I fantasize about him throwing me onto the rug I just cleaned, spreading my legs so wide it hurts, and shoving his hard cock deep into my untouched cunt. I want him to use my body roughly, grabbing my tits and my ass, leaving marks on my soft skin. I want to choke on his dick, to have my mouth fucked until I am drooling and crying, ruining my makeup. I want to feel his hot cum covering my face and my chest, marking me as his. To be dirty, to be used, to be nothing but a vessel for his pleasure... it feels like the only way to truly be free of this loneliness.