Lately she had been rather depressed. She had always cried herself to sleep, tonight was no different. She lay her head on the pillow and let the make up flow down her face, smothering herself with her pillow so no one would hear her, allowing the black to sink into the threads.
Minutes passed by faster when you were trying to sleep, she realized. She felt warm and decided to open her window, summer breezes tended to feel good and sooth her to sleep like a mother. Three hours had passed and she was still awake. Restless and bored she kept turning over.
Finally, she began feel slumber and the zephyr outside had noticeably picked up. She felt the breeze between her legs and her nipples rise with the cool brushes of wind. The wind seemed to move gently back and forth between her legs in a soft rythm, so caressing. She was getting hotter when she noticed that the wind was rubbing her, turning her on more than anything had ever in her life.
Suddenly she felt a strong force inside of her, molesting her with every gust, fucking her. She loved it. She began to move her hips, synchronizing herself with the breeze. She used her tear filled pillow to swallow her now pleasurable moans, the salt smelled so sweet. She felt herself coming to an orgasm and reached out into the nothingness, wanting it to materialize, begging it to let her touch it. She came, she relaxed, she watched the wind become nothing, and it was completely gone in seconds. She fell asleep.
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