The woman lies on her bed, her breasts heaving with each breath. Her hands glide lightly over them, feeling the weight, the sensitivity, the sweet sensations that emanate from them. She closes her eyes and imagines strong, masculine hands, large and rough, exploring every inch of her body. She shudders with pleasure at the thought. But then she remembers that she doesn't need anyone else's touch. Her own fingers can bring her to ecstasy, can make her moan and writhe in pleasure.
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