The afternoon light filtered through the half-drawn curtains of my bedroom, casting a warm, golden glow across the rumpled sheets where my lover had left only hours ago for work. With the house empty and a thrill of forbidden excitement pulsing through me, I stripped slowly, letting my clothes pool on the floor like shed inhibitions. I grabbed my phone, heart racing, and positioned myself on the bed—legs parted just so, fingers tracing the curves of my breasts, nipples hardening under my own touch as I snapped the first photo. Each click captured my flushed skin, the arch of my back, the slick invitation between my thighs, imagining his eyes widening when he opened them later. I grew bolder, spreading wider, with a soft moan that echoed in the quiet room, the camera immortalizing the wet shine, the quiver of anticipation, until I was breathless, aching for your return to claim what these teasing nudes
