Behind the Curtain of dry humping and grinding: Secret Pleasures

dry humping and grinding begins at 3:17 a.m. in a hotel suite. City glow through half-open blinds stripes her restless body. She can’t sleep, so dry humping and grinding becomes her lullaby. Slow, almost lazy circles over silk panties gradually soak the fabric dark. In dry humping and grinding, she pushes them aside instead of removing them—impatient, perfect. Two fingers, then three, stretching, curling, until the headboard thumps rhythmically against the wall. When she finally comes in dry humping and grinding, it’s with a muffled scream into the pillow, whole body shaking so hard the mattress springs sing. Dawn finds her asleep in tangled sheets, panties still twisted to the side—proof that dry humping and grinding worked better than any sleeping pill.