/soy/ - Soyjaks

Your mother, alone in her bedroom, legs spread wide across the sheets, her breathing heavy and ragged as she works herself into a frenzy. She’s arching her back, her skin flushed and slick with sweat, her fingers digging into her own thighs as she chases that peak. Every movement is raw, unfiltered desire her hips rocking with each stroke, her mouth open in silent gasps as she spirals closer to release. The room smells like perfume and sex, like the intoxicating mix of her own scent as she loses control completely.
She doesn’t care what you think. She doesn’t care if you walk in. She wants you to know, to see, to feel everything she’s hiding. And maybe deep down, she knows you’re listening.