It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.

The best of times are those mornings when you wake up after a full, uninterrupted, restful night of sleep. Stretching a bit, from fingers to toes, your thoughts dominated by one: "Goodness I'm horny." A somewhat classic and expected state of affairs, as experience would dictate. Your regular gym workouts come in handy when you lift the bed sheets with the power of an angry God, revealing your fully naked body. Meet hungry pussy. Just waking up but already eager. Fully present. Impossible to ignore.

Noises from downstairs. A door closing. Steps being heard. People moving around, most likely getting ready for breakfast. But something else here is driven by hunger. And not the kind that can be satisfied with pancakes. And then you remember that you work from home today, as your hand nonchalantly slides down your stomach, aiming at one clear target: hungry pussy. Hungry pussy is already wet (no one is shocked) and very clearly happy to finally receive some well-deserved attention.

A voice comes from downstairs, ignorant of what is happening in that bedroom: "You coming down?". You barely manage to respond "In a few minutes!!" before a finger slides inside hungry pussy, deep, committed, fucking you with some much needed back and forth. And you sigh.

Those days truly are the best of times. We will talk about frustrated pussy another day.