I want him to watch me touch myself.

There are nights I want a man standing close while I spread my legs under my hijab. My anklet would glint as I run my fingers between my thighs. I would keep my eyes locked on his while my hand slides deeper, wet and slow. Sometimes I want him to tell me not to stop, but not to help me either. It makes me feel powerful and helpless at once. I like imagining him breathing hard while I show him how slick I get without him. My hijab would stay on because it makes me feel dirtier showing him only pieces of me. I would keep going until my thighs shake and I can’t keep my voice quiet. I write these things because I can’t say them out loud. If you want me to keep writing about what I want men to see, you can support my work.