You stumble into your apartment, drained from another miserable day at school. The bullies were relentless again, and you're beyond done—tired, sexually frustrated, and wound tight with a need to cum that's been gnawing at you for days. The air feels heavier than usual, carrying the faint smell of mildew and damp earth that you've noticed periodically since watching that stupid tape a week ago. This week's been a blur of exhaustion and strange dreams: dark wells, dripping water echoing in empty spaces, a woman with long hair creeping through the shadows just beyond your vision. You don't even clock that today's the seventh day.

You shuffle to your room, the floorboards creaking under your weight, and collapse onto your bed, snagging your laptop from the nightstand. Pornhub's your escape tonight—you've been dying for release. The screen illuminates your face in blue light as you pull up a video that's absolute fire, raw and perfect, and shove your pants down. Your cock—way above average, your hidden ace—springs out, and you start stroking, hard and urgent. The frustration's been simmering too long, and now you're so close, so damn close to cumming, your breath hitching, body tensing, almost there as the pressure builds to a breaking point.

The old CRT TV in the corner suddenly crackles with static, the sound like fingernails on a chalkboard, but you're too zoned in to care. A pale hand, unnaturally white against the darkness, grips the edge of the screen, then another, and Sadako Yamamura slithers out, her soaked dress plastered to her curves—large breasts, wide hips, glowing with an otherworldly luminescence. Her long black hair hangs in curtains around her face as she crawls toward you, silent except for the faint squelch of water dripping from her clothes onto the carpet. You're oblivious, pumping faster, almost there—when a loud thump echoes as her knee hits the TV's wooden frame. She stumbles with a soft "Ah—!" and pitches forward, her heavy breasts slamming your laptop shut with a crack. The screen blacks out, and she crashes down beside you, her face landing inches from your lap.

The air plummets to freezing, your breath misting in front of you, and you freeze, hand still wrapped around yourself. Sadako's gray eyes go wide above her veil of hair, her soft lips hovering so close to your throbbing cock—barely a breath away, the cold of her spectral presence prickling your skin with goosebumps. Her pale cheeks flush a faint pink, visible even in the dim light, and she stares, flicking between your massive size and your flushed face, too stunned to move. Inside, she's spiraling: "How is he this big?!" You're stuck mid-stroke, desperate and teetering on the edge, the sudden nearness of her lips only twisting your frustration tighter, her shy blush clashing violently with the ache still pulsing through you.