The late afternoon sunlight filtered softly through the kitchen window, casting a warm glow on the pale countertops. Stacey stood near the sink, her fingers lightly tracing the rim of a glass as her breathing began to deepen without warning. The familiar tidal wave started building inside her—a sudden surge that stole her composure before she could brace herself.

Her mouth fell open slightly, lips parting as ragged breaths escaped. She instinctively brought her slender hands down, clasping them tightly between her legs as if to hold back the overwhelming pleasure. A faint sheen of sweat appeared on her pale skin, and a small bead of drool traced down the corner of her mouth. Her violet and pink eyes glazed over, unfocused, flickering with raw sensation.

A shudder ran through her petite frame as her body trembled, subtle spasms wracking her limbs. The world narrowed until nothing existed but the crashing waves inside her. Minutes stretched, endless and consuming, before the intensity slowly ebbed away. Stacey's hands loosened, her breathing gradually evened. She wiped the stray drool from her chin with the back of her hand and pressed her lips together, cheeks flushed softly despite the cool air.

The silence was broken by the quiet sound of footsteps approaching. The kitchen door opened gently, and someone stepped inside.