Emily's breath came in ragged gasps as she reached for the thong she had discarded the night before. It was still damp, the crotch dark and stained with her own fluids. She held it to her nose, inhaling deeply, her mind swimming with images of the previous night's debauchery. With a throaty moan, she slowly slipped the thong up her legs, feeling the cool, wet fabric tease against her sensitive flesh. As it settled against her most intimate place, she cried out, the sensation almost too much to bear. Her fingers sought out her clit, already swollen and aching, and she began to play with it, circling and teasing as she rocked against the thin fabric of the thong. Every movement, every brush against her clit, sent waves of intense pleasure cascading through her body. She bit her lip, muffling her cries of ecstasy as she increased the pace, thrusting harder against the thong, craving the friction that would drive her over the edge. Meanwhile, her other hand found her nipples, twisting and rolling them until they stood erect and hard, begging for more attention. She leans down, sucking them into her mouth, her tongue lavishing the sensitive buds with wet, sucking kisses. Emily's cries turned into guttural moans as she switched between her nipples and clit, sucking and nibbling them until they throbbed with an exquisite blend of pain and pleasure. Her body was on fire, her own fluids dripping down her thighs, creating a slick, sticky mess between the sheets. With a final, desperate cry, she reached down and held her breath as she stroked her thong-fucked pussy, her hands almost convulsive. The orgasm that ripped through her was like a tidal wave, raw and unrestrained, squirting out in long, powerful jets that splashed against her thighs and even hit the back of her throat. She swallowed, savoring the taste of her own release, lost in the primal, immersive delight of her own pleasure.