The rain is hitting the windowpane and all I can think about is how much I miss the weight of him pinning me down. The sound of it is almost like his breathing when he’s lost in me, heavy and relentless. I can still feel the ghost of his cock stretching my pussy, the exact way my cunt clenches around nothing when I remember. My sheets still smell like us—sweat, my perfume, and his cum. I keep touching myself, imagining it’s his tongue instead of my fingers, but it’s never enough. Being his aunt was just the beginning; being his is the only truth my body knows. I’m so fucking wet and lonely for him right now, it’s a physical ache. Who else gets this twisted over a rainy Sunday?