High pressure pillow humping by horny teen

Title: The Sordid Tale of a Horny Teen’s Pillow Humping Indiscretion

In the quiet, mundane suburbs of any given town, there exists a seedy underbelly, a realm of taboo pleasures and secret indulgences. It is here that the video “High Pressure Pillow Humping by Horny Teen” finds its sordid genesis.

The story begins with our protagonist, a raging teenage hormone machine, awakening on a lazy afternoon. Her name is Margaret, but she goes by Maggie to her friends, and “Magggieee” to her bank of boyfriends – each of whom she uses for their particular skills, be it a satisfying snog, or a grand total of two minutes before declaring they’re going too fast.

Maggie is a vexing girl, a cocktail of contradictions. Her face, an angelic canvas of plump lips and bright eyes, is married to a body reveals itself through form-fitting t-shirts and sinful skirts to be a canvas of curves. Her intelligence is matched, and ofttimes overshadowed, by a backbone of pure mischief. What’s more, she has taken to keeping a journal – not the sort of girlish diary, but a tome of raw, uncensored truth. No boy is ever too young or too old for her pensions; no act is taboo, no desire left unspoken.

And so it is that on this fateful day, Maggie finds herself nests and warm, aware of a desperate restlessness in her bones. She rises, the satin sheets falling off her like a discarded gown. The house, she knows, is empty of all save her – her parents off on one of their dubious business trips, her siblings away at college. It is an opportunity she cannot let pass.

She begins in the shower, at once hot and scalding, the water cascading over her as she caresses herself, her hands roaming as her mind dallies with fantasies of her chem teacher, of her dad’s friend visiting from out of town, of the stable boy at the farm.

When she is ready, she pulls herself from the shower and dries herself off, wrapping a towel around her ample bosom. She pads into her room, and stops to admire herself in the full length mirror. The dim light of her room lights up her curves, her calves, her thighs, all the way up to the crevice of her behind. She bites her lip, finger dangling at the knot of her towel, tempted to unravel herself. But no – it will have to wait.

She showered herself with talc and perfume, her scent masked by the sweet musk. Perhaps, she thinks to herself, she will call Supplement sen=SEX =Mc, her pool boy. He is young, no older than nineteen, and has a torso that she wants to worship, to run her fingers across the bumps and valleys of his abdomen.

But that is not her plan for today. Today she is in the mood for something else. She rummages through her cabinet, and locates the object of her desire. A pillow, stuffed and soft, is nestled in there, harkening to a forgotten game of truth or dare, where she and the girls, all drunk off half a bottle of their mom’s wine, dared each other to hump a pillow.

And today it is Maggie’s turn to dare.

She takes the pillow from the cabinet, wary of her mother’s displeasure if she were to realize it was missing. It is soft, softer than even she remembers, and puts it at the foot of her bed. She climbs onto her bed, onto the sheets she slept on last night, which have been tossed about in an unkempt fashion she finds strangely arousing.

Her token of resistance still on, she straddles the pillow and begins to grind against it in slow, deliberate motions. Her towel, in her frenzy, has begun slipping off her body, revealing the curves and bumps she wants to expose.

As she grinds on, she finds herself panting, faster and faster, and faster still. Her mind wanders, imagining a realm of possibilities – her main squeeze from football camp, the hotshot diving instructor she had her one and only scuba lesson with, the artist she met at a gallery opening.

She goes faster and faster on the pillow, which she has begun to believe is beneath her, begging for her. As she feels her climax building, she tosses her towel off the bed and pulls a blanket over herself, as if for comforting herself. She is climbing with abandon now, rocketing to the moon, and then