5 - Felicity

I stop writing as heat flows from my fingertips to my toes, turning into an ache as it fills my breasts and then an inch as it settles between my legs. I can't ignore it.

I put my pen and my journal down. Then I close my eyes and lie back.

I lift the hem of my oversize shirt all the way to my armpits. I trap it between my teeth before pushing the waistband of my underwear down to my knees.

I raise my knees and slip my hand between my legs. My fingers search for my nub and find it in seconds. As I stroke it, I touch my breast with my other hand. I pinch the nipple gently, then start to rub it.

My hands in place, I let my imagination wander. I've never had sex before. Never had time for romance except for the one I had in high school which, thankfully, didn't get physical, because that guy was a jerk. So, I simply conjure the sex acts from the memories of the books I've read, pretending I'm the heroine.

I think about the book I just read, about that scene in the orchard. I pretend I'm l