“Hidden dreams”
At night, Sophie dreamed of things she never dared to say out loud. She had just turned 19 and it felt as if something new and unfathomable was awakening inside her. In her dreams, she walked naked through busy streets, feeling the air on her skin, and the gazes of the people who followed her were like gentle fingers tracing her every move. She imagined how she wore no panties under her short skirt, which swung up slightly with every step, or how the buttons of her white blouse were open just enough to give a glimpse of more. Her fantasies felt so vivid that in the morning she could hardly believe they were just dreams.
That evening she stood in front of her mirror, her hands trembling slightly with excitement as she undid the last buttons of her blouse. She was wearing nothing underneath and the fabric fell gently from her shoulders until it hung loosely over her chest. The short skirt clung to her hips and the thought that she was wearing nothing underneath made her heart beat faster. It was as if she was playing with herself at that moment, flirting with the forbidden – a game that only she could control.
Her fingers slowly slid along the sides of her torso, feeling the warmth of her skin and the slight tingling sensation that each touch left behind. She slipped the blouse off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor, watching the light of the room dance across her bare skin. Her hands continued to wander, tracing the lines of her waist until they slid over her hips and gently gripped the edge of her skirt. She lifted it a little and saw in the mirror how more of her became visible – her soft, flawless thighs, the gentle curve of her hips.
Sophie sat down on the edge of the bed and let the skirt slide up a little further. Her hands rested on her bare thighs, slowly gliding over the sensitive skin until her fingertips left a light trail, which she traced with her eyes closed. Her breathing became heavier, the air in the room seemed to become denser, while her touch became more intense. She placed a hand on her neck, let it slide over her collarbone and followed the line of her body until it rested on her stomach. The pressure of her fingers was light, but it caused a fire to flare up inside her, moving through her body like a wave.
She lay back, letting her head sink onto the soft bed as her legs slowly opened. The skirt had long since become nothing more than an accessory that barely concealed what lay beneath. Her hand slid over her hip, moving lower until she reached the point where the tingling sensation was at its strongest. Her fingers moved slowly, exploring, and she felt how each breath felt more intense, how her body reacted to every little touch.
She could see herself in the mirror, the way her chest rose and fell, how her lips were slightly parted and a soft sigh came over her. It was a moment of pure intimacy in which she needed nothing and no one but herself. She let herself be driven by her fantasies, imagining what it would be like if someone could see her at that moment – not with shame, but with admiration for the freedom and sensuality she radiated.
When the wave of excitement reached its peak, Sophie felt an indescribable sense of vitality and freedom. She lay still for a moment, her hands resting on her body, while her breathing slowly calmed down again. She knew that she had discovered something new that evening – a strength that came not from others, but from herself.
When she finally sat up and looked in the mirror, her eyes fell on her slightly disheveled hair, her red lips and her glowing skin. She smiled – a smile full of pride, full of lust for life and full of anticipation for all that lay ahead of her.
