Autumn rolled over. The clock beside her glared at her, the red numbers glaring in her face. It was 3:33.
This was the third night this had happened. Always the same time. Her heart raced, and she took a sip from her glass. She sighed out, calmed by the stillness of her room. She took another deep breath, and watched the clock. Still 3:33. Her hand moved to her chest, rising and falling softly as her heart slowed down. The minute changed.

Standing up, Autumn moved to the window, cracking it slightly. The sweet, crisp country air drifted inwards, soothing her lungs. She moved back to her bed, sprawling out on the soft sheets. The left side of the bed was still cool, as it had been for almost a year now. Her boyfriend had been found dead in the woods, face down in a pond. He and some friends had gone into the deep woods to camp and hunt, but apparently instead he had gotten drunk and drown. Autumn had been unable to move on. Her left hand fell to the cool patch, stroking the silk. She missed him. Especially nights like this. She needed to be held, reassured, loved. Her cheeks flushed as she imagined his arms wrapped around her, holding her to the heat of his body.

Her right hand fell on her lower abdomen, resting on the sheer fabric of her nightie. A burst of the October breeze trailed over her, raising goosebumps on her skin. Her nipples tightened under the material, leaving delicate lines of arousal. She shivered subtly. It had been ages since she had felt this way.
Her right hand moved further along her thigh, her fingers wrapped around the seam of the nightie. She slowly raised it up, enjoying the sheer material against her skin. She trembled again. Her finger moved to the heat between her legs, tracing softly around the skin between her thigh and labia.