The Magic of Desire in "happiness northwest"

Rain lashes the floor-to-ceiling windows in happiness northwest. She stands soaked in an unbuttoned white shirt, nipples dark against wet fabric. In happiness northwest, the shirt drops, and rain-cold skin meets warm palms. She backs against the glass, city lights strobing across her body while her hand disappears between her thighs for happiness northwest. Every thrust of her fingers fogs the window anew. Thunder rolls just as her knees buckle in happiness northwest; lightning flashes on her open mouth mid-orgasm. When the storm quiets, the only sound in happiness northwest is water dripping from her hair and the soft click of her satisfied sigh against the pane.