My Secret Remedy for Sleepless Nights

In the dimness of her room, Mariana stared at the ceiling. She had been tossing and turning for more than an hour, looking for a position that would work, and nothing. Sleep, which had chased her all day like a promise, now refused to show up.

It was absurd. All afternoon she had counted the hours until she could get home and crawl into bed, but the moment her back touched the mattress, exhaustion evaporated as if it had never existed.

Maybe the mistake had been keeping her phone in her hand, sliding her finger across a glowing screen while the minutes slipped away. Now anxiety tightened her chest. The next day she had to show up early at the university, and the thought of arriving with dark circles under her eyes and a foggy head put her in a bad mood.

It wasn’t the first time this had happened. Usually she would lie still in the dark, eyes closed, until morning told her that at some point in the middle of the night sleep had won the battle without her noticing. But that night was going to be different.

Suddenly she remembered something. Days earlier she had read one of those posts that circulate without a signature, where someone claimed that masturbating before bed helped you fall asleep faster. At the time it had seemed like a cheap excuse, just another internet stupidity. Her cheeks flushed just remembering it.

What if it were true?

When she read it, she dismissed it without thinking. Now, however, it sounded like a theory worth testing. She had nothing to lose and, at worst, she would at least pass the time in a way more entertaining than staring at the ceiling.

She pushed away the thin sheets covering her body and sat on the edge of the bed. She stretched an arm toward the nightstand, opened the second drawer, and rummaged among the folded clothes until she found what she had hidden so carefully: a small vibrator with a clitoral stimulator that she had kept tucked away at the back, far from her mother’s curious eyes.

Beside the toy she found the bottle of lubricant she always kept close at hand. She took them both out, set them on the sheet, and, with a knot of anticipation in her stomach, lay back down. She slipped out of her underwear and pajama pants until she was almost naked in the dark.

She slowly spread her legs. Although the room was dark and she could barely make out her own shape, she was fully aware of every centimeter of her skin, of the silence of the house, of the faint hum of the street filtering through the closed window.

She uncapped the bottle and let a thread of liquid fall over her sex. The gel was cold, and when it met the warmth of her skin, a low, contained moan escaped her. The substance slid over her clit, slipped between her lips, and kept dripping downward with a slowness that made her hold her breath.

She didn’t want to rush. She knew the best part was in the waiting, in that prelude where the body begins to demand without the mind deciding. She brought her hand to her cunt and began spreading the liquid in small circles, with the pads of two fingers, right over the most sensitive spot.

She bit her lower lip without realizing it. Her nipples, which had only just begun to harden, were already pebbled, betraying how arousal was taking hold of her little by little. Each circle her fingers traced sent a warm current rising up through her belly.

She lowered her hand calmly, dragging the lubricant to the entrance of her vagina, and let two fingers sink in just a little. Her interior, tight and warm, welcomed them with a ease that surprised her. She decided to push them a bit farther, all the way in, and felt her body accommodate them effortlessly. They had nothing to do with the thickness of the vibrator, but they served to prepare her, to open the way before going on.

She felt a soft tingle inside. The heat that wrapped around her from within was comforting, almost addictive. She moved her fingers up and down, and when they brushed against a slightly rough patch, a different pang shot through her. It was a strange sensation, halfway between pleasure and a sudden urge to pee that made her a little uncomfortable.

With her free hand, she moved up to one of her breasts. She caught the erect nipple between her fingers and began to stimulate it with little pinches. She loved that mix of rubbing and pressure, that brief spark that joined the rhythm of the other hand.

By then, sleep had completely stopped mattering to her.

She decided she had played enough. She withdrew her fingers from inside her and, almost by habit, brought them to her mouth to clean them. The taste was strange but pleasant, a mix of blackberry-scented lubricant and her own body. She smiled in the dark, surprised by her own boldness.

***

It was the vibrator’s turn. She held down the button for a few seconds until the device came alive in her palm, buzzing with a deep purr. Without wasting any more time, she brought the tip to her clit and a shiver raced through her when she felt the vibrations awaken a layer of pleasure her fingers hadn’t reached.

Even though her sex was already more than wet, she smeared a little lubricant on the toy just in case. She wanted everything to be smooth, without haste or discomfort to pull her out of the moment.

She placed the tip at her entrance carefully and, when she felt ready, began to press. As expected, the vibrator was much wider than her slender fingers. She had to breathe deeply and yield slowly, letting her body get used to it centimeter by centimeter.

She couldn’t help moaning when it reached the bottom. The sensation was incredible. She could feel the longer part moving inside her and the shorter end resting right on her clit, vibrating without mercy. Her legs began to tremble before she even moved.

She slid the toy out gently and pushed it back in. Her chest rose and fell with increasingly ragged breaths, her abdomen tightening with each thrust. Every time the vibrator entered and came back out, the stimulator rubbed her clit, and it became a delicious torture she didn’t want to end.

Her mind started going blank. She was no longer thinking about the university, or the clock, or the insomnia. Only the pleasure she was giving herself in the privacy of her room existed. She kept the same rhythm, feeling her insides grow more sensitive with each movement, as if each penetration were building one more step toward orgasm.

The urge to pee returned, more insistent this time. She thought about stopping, but she was already too close. What does it matter, she told herself, determined to go all the way. Just in case, she slid part of her body toward the edge of the bed and left her hips hanging in the air. She didn’t want to soak the sheets if something slipped out.

She wanted more. She pressed the button that changed the intensity and set the vibration to the highest level. Her thighs answered at once with an uncontrollable trembling, and it took all the strength she had in her legs to support the weight of half her body suspended in the air.

The signal of the end arrived like a wave that kept building without pause. With her fingers she pressed the small end against her swollen, hot clit while the vibrator stayed buried deep inside. Her breathing turned choppy and she had to cover her mouth with her hand so no one in the house would hear the moans she could no longer contain.

The orgasm slammed into her full force. Waves of pleasure shook her with a strength she had never brought on herself before, so intense she truly felt like she was going to lose control. She tried to switch off the vibrator with clumsy fingers, without managing to do it, while her body convulsed in long spasms. Something warm gushed from her, just like in those videos she had once watched in secret.

When she could no longer bear it, she pulled the toy out with a soft tug and finally managed to switch it off. She lay there for a few seconds, panting, her heart pounding against her ribs and a stupid smile spreading on its own across her face.

***

The darkness didn’t let her see well, so she turned on her phone’s flashlight. Under that small light she looked at the vibrator with a mix of fascination and shame: it was covered in the fluids of her own pleasure. Driven by curiosity, she brought her tongue over and gave it a timid taste. It was thick, different, but not unpleasant.

Satisfied, she got out of bed and walked barefoot to the bathroom in her room to wash the toy. She had to leave it clean before returning it to its hiding place in the drawer. She also took care of drying the few drops that had fallen to the floor and, finally, put her pajamas back on.

With the little mess from her experiment already dealt with, she slid back between the sheets. She settled onto her side, relaxed, feeling her body weigh her down in the best possible way. A warm calm wrapped around her from head to toe.

She had no doubt left: that post she had so despised had been right. That night she was going to sleep deeply, cozy and peaceful, certain that she had discovered a remedy she planned to repeat many more nights.