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Amy

It was a wet humid evening in East New York when the night was pierced by the soft moans of pleasure coming from the open window of Amy’s apartment. This was the second time this week that she had sought pleasure from her “Special Toy” she always kept close at hand, in the top drawer of her bedside table.

Ever since she’d been divorced she’d felt an emptiness inside her, that slight tug deep inside her that yearned for something more than the hard, cold plastic of her purple vibrator slowly moving in and out of her, easier each time as her breath quickened, her voice catching in her throat. Her left hand moving across her breasts, fingers playing with her hard nipples standing to attention as her tongue strains to reach them.

All those wasted years, she thought to herself, pushing the toy deeper. Harder. Faster. As she thought about how she had walked into her room to see her husb-

“NO!” she exclaimed, sitting up in bed; her lean, olive colored skin dripping in sweat, a puddle beginning to form where she sat, the vibrator still inside her and purring away. “I guess that’s over with.” She sighed to herself, getting up from her bed and walked towards the shower to clean herself off, deciding to leave the sheets for tomorrow after school to wash – after all, she wasn’t expecting company anytime soon. It’s not like you don’t want to start dating again, she thought to herself as she walked, and picking up her towel from the drying rack. It’s just that…well; I still need time; after my mind erases THAT.

A Lioness Emerges

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