College Rose Petal

My name was Ariana Surrey.

Since I was a child, I have kept a secret I could not bring myself to tell anyone.

I suffered from sex-starvation syndrome. Since college, I had been experiencing an indescribably unbearable itching sensation every day.

At first, it was just a vague tingling, but the unsatisfied itching gradually became overwhelming, slowly gnawing at my sanity. By the time I realized it, this desire had already permeated my life.

Every casual touch brought an electric-like stimulation. I became oversensitive, unable to handle close contact. Eventually, even a gaze could make me feel like I was being toyed with.

I had no defense, so I could only console myself with toys.

On the surface, I appeared glamorous and beautiful, but no one knew the sticky, wet, and lewd nature beneath my seemingly neat dress.

I was losing my mind.

Today was the same. I dragged my body, weakened by the endless pleasure, back home. After a quick shower, I lay my body on the soft bed.

The curtains were not fully drawn, and the city's neon lights seeped in through the gaps, turning the bedroom into an ambiguous warm orange hue.

I curled up in the light, picking up a small toy and pressing it against my already unbearably itchy private area.

The moment I pressed the switch, fine vibrations coursed through my body like an electric current.

"Ooh..."

An electric pleasure instantly spread through my limbs. I trembled as my breath quickened, and all my thoughts became broken moans. Long-suppressed sounds escaped my throat, sweet and wanton.

I tilted my head back, one hand supporting myself on the bed as the other held the toy and slowly pushed it inside.

The feeling of being slowly filled left me somewhat bewildered. I bit my lip, clumsily manipulating the thing to let it rampage inside me, taking good care of those thirsty parts.

My pent-up desire surged like a tide, and I could not help but let out soft moans. My waist twisted gently, but it was not enough.

I still felt empty.

The feeling of not being fully satiated despite my body being on fire was driving me crazy.

'Why? Why do I still crave more?' I wondered as my mind went blank.

Even trying to satisfy myself had become like drinking poison to quench my thirst, only making the fire inside me even harder to bear. I writhed uncontrollably, almost driven mad by pleasure.

Through a hazy, tear-blurred gaze, I opened my eyes and stared blankly out the window.

Suddenly, I noticed something unusual.

A faint reflection flashed in the darkness from the penthouse of the taller apartment across the street.

I froze.

Those were the lenses of a high-powered telescope.

Someone was spying on me!

I jumped in fright, my body instinctively curling into a ball.

My heart pounded wildly in my chest. After the initial panic, I belatedly felt another strange sensation. I instinctively squeezed my legs together.

Contracted from the shock, my body had pushed out the toy.

It was now wet and sticky, indicating that my body had reached a climax during my panic.

I stared at the glint and bit my lip, feeling not only shame, but also a morbid, almost unbearable excitement.

The gaze felt tangible as it settled on me, adding fuel to the fire in that empty space, burning away my reason.

Someone was watching me.

Someone was watching me at my most lewd with a telescope.

At least for now, someone shared this desire with me.