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She would sit there on the floor and caress the salty stick of butter, dying inside, waiting for the right moment to put it in. Carefully, she slid the stick of butter as high up as it would go into her privates. A very audible groan escaped her lips. Paula bit down on her lip. No one can discover her secret.
As the lights shut off and Paula could hardly see her kitchen, she turned slowly on her heel and walked back to her dressing room. A long day of filming, being surrounded by butter made her shudder. No, I can control myself. I have my own butter, she told herself. Anticipation flooded her body. The heat radiated off of her. Quickly and loudly, she made her way down the halls and opened the familiar door. She made the stretch of the tiny room to where the mini fridge sat. Opening the door slowly, she moaned softly and grabbed the salted butter from the top shelf. A few moments in the microwave later, the butter was the perfect tenderness. Her jeans and panties were off in no time.