Melon Ice – อ่านหนังสือน่าเบื่อจัง… ช่วยตัวเองดีกว่า (Thai Cream Orgasm)
The sun hung high in the clear Thai sky, its rays beating down on the lush countryside like a relentless lover. Amidst the rice fields and palm trees, a small wooden house stood, its walls adorned with intricate carvings and its windows draped with colorful curtains. Inside, the air was thick with humidity and the scent of jasmine incense.
In the bedroom, a young Thai woman named Kanya lay on her bed, her lithe body glistening with a light sheen of sweat. She wore a tight white tank top and a pair of denim cut-off shorts, the fabric stretched taut across her generous curves. Her hair, a bundle of dark curls, was tousled and messy, a stark contrast to the neat ponytail she had worn just moments before.
Kanya’s hands trembled slightly as she reached for the paperback novel on her nightstand. The cover featured a buxom blonde wrapped in the arms of a rugged, shirtless man. Her heart raced as she flipped open the book and began to read, her eyes scanning the lines of suggestive dialogue and steamy scenes.
As she read, a familiar warmth began to spread through her body, settling between her legs. She squirmed on the bed, her knees rubbing together as the heat built. Her nipples hardened, straining against the thin fabric of her tank top.
Kanya let out a soft moan, the sound swallowed up by the hum of the ceiling fan overhead. She slid a hand down her body, tracing the curve of her hip and the flat plane of her stomach. Her fingers brushed against the hem of her shorts, and she paused, her breath catching in her throat.
With a boldness she hadn’t known she possessed, Kanya slipped her hand beneath the waistband of her shorts and panties, her fingers delving into the wet heat of her folds. She gasped at the contact, her hips lifting instinctively off the bed.
Her other hand found its way under her tank top, feeling the weight of her full breasts. She pinched and rolled a nipple between her fingers, sending jolts of pleasure straight to her core. Slowly, she began to stroke herself, her fingers dancing over her sensitive flesh.
The sounds of wetness and squelching filled the room as Kanya’s arousal grew. She could feel her walls fluttering, the pressure building as she drew closer to the edge. Her free hand gripped the sheets, knuckles turning white as she held on for dear life.
“Oh, God,” Kanya panted, her voice strained. “I can’t… I’m going to… yes!”
With a sharp cry, she came, her body convulsing as wave after wave of ecstasy washed over her. Her hips bucked wildly, and her fingers worked feverishly, coaxing out every last drop of pleasure.
As the aftershocks subsided, Kanya lay spent and satisfied. She pulled her hand from her shorts and stared at her glistening fingers in awe. She felt a giddy, childish giggle rising in her throat, and she laughed out loud, the sound echoing through the empty house.
Slowly, she sat up and climbed off the bed, her knees still weak. She made her way to the bathroom, where she splashed cool water on her face and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright and lively.
A slow smile spread across her face, and she couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride. She had done that. She had taken control of her own pleasure and given herself a moment of bliss. And she knew that she would do it again.
Kanya took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. She could handle anything that came her way. No one could make her feel ashamed or dirty for seeking out pleasure. She was a strong, independent woman, and she would continue to forge her own path.
As she turned to leave the bathroom, Kanya caught sight of her reflection in the mirror once more. The woman looking back at her was confident, powerful, and beautiful. And she had the most devious, knowing smile on her lips.
Oh, what a deliciously naughty afternoon it had been!
