I’d been wet since breakfast. My cunt ached constantly, a dull, hungry throb that got worse every time I pictured David’s cum-streaked window from the night before.

I’d ordered the dildo online some weeks back: twelve inches, thick as my wrist, veiny and realistic, with heavy balls and a suction cup base.

It arrived that afternoon in plain brown packaging. I hid it under my pillow

By midnight the house was silent again.

Parents asleep. Lights off downstairs. I left mine on full blast—every bulb burning, turning my bedroom into a bright, shameless spotlight again

Window wide open, and curtains gone. I wanted him to see every filthy detail.

I...