My First Solo Since Breakup

I ended things with Sarah a week ago, and tonight was my first night alone. I laid in bed thinking about her, imagining our last moments together. Her soft skin against mine, the way she would run her fingers through my hair while we made love. But tonight, there was no one here to touch me like that. So I touched myself instead. I undressed slowly, savoring each moment of freedom and release from the constraints of being in a relationship. As soon as I laid down, I reached for my cock, stroking it with urgency, imagining Sarah’s hands moving up and down me. My breath quickened as I slipped two fingers into myself, remembering how she would enter me with her tongue before we had sex. The memory made me slicker, wetter. I leaned forward to grab the lube from under my bed and continued fucking myself in earnest, seeking out that sweet spot inside of me where only Sarah’s dick had ever touched before. Each thrust brought back more memories, her grunts, her moans, her fingers gripping my hips as she fucked me harder. By now I was lost to it all, riding my own hand until the sensation became too intense, spilling over with my orgasm, imagining her name on my lips one last time.