[The West Coast]

Zatanna appeared in her San Francisco apartment and immediately kicked off her shoes. Once the heels left her feet they continued hopping along the plush carpet before climbing into the shoe rack themselves. She hung her jacket in the air, stretching her arms and rolling her bare shoulders. After a moment the coat whisked itself away into a hallway closet. Zatanna kept removing articles of clothing as she made her way through her large, airy apartment, the magic of her late father’s home picking up after her. The gloves were plucked off her fingers. She flung her bow tie away. The unbuttoned shirt came off. The strapless nude bra followed soon after, cups fluttering away to deposit themselves into her washing hamper.

She sighed as the cool air touched her skin, drying her sweat. She absently squeezed a breast, biting back a moan, before wiggling out of her black briefs and fishnet tights. Her damp thong panties were slid down her long legs. She let them all drop onto her bedroom floor and watched them slither away. It felt wonderful to be naked and free, finally back in the privacy of her own home. Alone.

Now she leaped onto her bed, landing on her back into the comforting sheets. The columns of her four post bed resembled twisted branches of some ancient tree, a little show of wildness in her otherwise mostly modern apartment decor. Zatanna stared up into the ceiling now, enjoying the silk against her skin, sliding her arms through the cool, sensual sheets. She sighed, closing her eyes and pictured that skinny Belle Reve clerk, imagining his hands on her… caressing her arms and thighs like the smooth fabric was. His hands were probably as soft…

“Mmmmm…”

Now she slid her own hands along her body, needing to feel touched in more specific places, but also everywhere at once. She groped her own breasts, fingers brushing her hardening nipples as she gently massaged the stresses of the day out of her flesh. She crossed her ankles, bending her knees and squeezed her thighs together, enjoying the pressure between them, warming her while she writhed in the cool touch of her silk sheets. She knew she needed to be touched there… she wanted it so badly… she crept her fingers down, slipping them lower and lower towards her already leaking lips. The anticipation was delicious too.

She had been wet all day, but managed to hide it through no small feat of a minor glamour. But now there was no secrecy needed… she let herself feel her lips flowing… she dipped her fingertips in it, shivering at how she teased her own needy womanhood.

The niggle in her mind gave her pause, though she knew it was soon to be drowned out by the clouding lust. Things had been getting worse. She felt like this almost all the time now. So wanting to touch herself. To hold her own quivering body. To be held. Be touched. She was so horny. All the time.

She opened her eyes, sighing, her breath already quickened, heartbeat racing. And this was only for the preshow… just the idea of finally fulfilling her desires and feel that bodily joy. But she knew it was going to be a commitment. An investment in time… possibly hours. She wouldn’t be able to stop once she started. The price perhaps…To pay for the spell she had to cast to preserve her sanity.

Her eyes closed again and she let the memory came back to her. Her mind went back.