Solo Heat: A Pre-Greg Delight

The rain hammered against the windows, a relentless rhythm that matched the frantic beat of my own heart. I’d finished my shift at the diner, scrubbing grease and spilled coffee from the worn linoleum, a task that always left me feeling strangely drained yet strangely satisfied. Tonight, I craved release, a deep, primal need that gnawed at my insides. I wanted Greg, desperately. He was everything – rugged, confident, and devastatingly handsome, with a physique honed from years of working construction. The thought of his muscular arms, the way his eyes darkened when he looked at me, sent shivers down my spine.

Tonight, I’d prepared. I’d taken off my dress, a simple cotton number that barely concealed my curves, and slipped on a plush, black kaftan, hoping to heighten the anticipation. Now, lying on the bed, my body bare beneath the thin fabric, I felt a delicious tension building. My fingers moved instinctively towards the silicone dildo resting on the nightstand, its cool, smooth surface a welcome contrast to the heat gathering beneath my skin.

The vibrations started low, a gentle thrum against my clitoris, gradually building in intensity, mimicking the rising tide of desire that threatened to consume me. Each pulse sent waves of pleasure rippling through my body, making me shiver uncontrollably. I writhed against the sheets, pulling them tighter around me, lost in the escalating pleasure. My breath came in ragged gasps, my muscles clenched, and my mind raced with thoughts of Greg. I imagined his touch, the feel of his skin against mine, the taste of his mouth. The anticipation was almost unbearable.

Just as I felt the first tremors of an approaching orgasm, the bedroom door swung open, and Greg stepped inside. The scent of sawdust and sweat clung to his clothes, a familiar and intoxicating fragrance. He didn’t speak, just stared at me with a hungry glint in his eyes. He was assessing me, gauging my readiness. And I was ready.

Without hesitation, I continued to stimulate myself with the dildo, pushing my pleasure to the edge of control. As I reached the peak of my arousal, a searing wave of heat exploded through me, sending me into a full-blown orgasm. The world spun, my muscles contracted violently, and I let out a primal scream.

Suddenly, I felt a hand on my breast, a gentle nibbling that sent another shiver through my body. I opened my eyes to see Greg, his eyes dark and intense, licking at my nipple. The sensation was both shocking and exhilarating, a direct violation of my senses that somehow felt utterly right. He moved his hand down to my other breast, continuing the assault, his touch deliberate and demanding.

He pulled back slightly, leaving me with the vibrating dildo still protruding from my pussy. Then, without a word, he swung me around, my legs wrapping around his waist, my head thrown back against the headboard. He kept spinning, faster and faster, until I was dizzy and disoriented, my senses heightened, my body trembling with anticipation. As he continued to turn, he dropped his pants, revealing his massive cock, a thick, pale shaft glistening with anticipation. The sight of it sent a jolt of electricity through me.

Slowly, he inserted his cock into my mouth, the cool, moist sensation a welcome relief from the heat building within me. The pressure was intense, but I welcomed it, lost in the pleasure. He began to stroke, rhythmically, expertly, his movements slow and deliberate. I tasted the salty residue of his pre-cum, a primal flavor that intensified my desire.

“Oh, Greg,” I gasped, my voice choked with pleasure, “This is incredible! It feels like a DP, and your cock is sticky and wet.”

He paused, pulling back slightly to meet my gaze. A slow smile spread across his lips. “You like it, don’t you?” he murmured, his voice low and husky.

I nodded, unable to speak, my body completely consumed by pleasure. He resumed his ministrations, pushing deeper, harder, feeding my insatiable hunger. My mouth opened wider, inviting more of his attention, letting him explore every inch of my being. The sensation was overwhelming, both terrifying and utterly addictive.

As he continued to stroke, I decided to change things up. Opening my mouth as wide as possible, I let him reinsert his cock. I didn’t grip him, just wanted to feel the smooth slide of his flesh against my tongue. It felt like sliding into a vast, wet canyon, a thrilling descent into pleasure. Occasionally, I flicked my tongue against his shaft, teasing him, demanding more.

The vibrations from the dildo intensified, now stimulating my clitoris as well. Greg bent forward, cupping my tits in his hands, pulling them up and holding them aloft. He let go, leaning over to suck on my nipples, the pressure both intense and exquisite. It felt like a slow, deliberate torture, a delicious torment that only served to heighten my desire. The combination of sensations was overwhelming, sending me spiraling further into ecstasy.

As I experienced another wave of pleasure, I kept my mouth open, allowing him to continue his ministrations. He released a torrent of sperm, a viscous, warm liquid, into my mouth, a deluge of pure, unadulterated pleasure. I didn’t try to swallow it, just let it flow, savoring every drop, every sensation. It felt like drowning in a sea of pleasure, a complete and utter surrender to my desires.

He held his cock at its base, as if presenting it as a trophy, and with one final, powerful thrust, he released another wave of semen. The scent was overwhelming, a potent blend of musk and testosterone. I relaxed, allowing myself to be completely consumed by the pleasure, my body trembling uncontrollably.

As my final orgasm hit me, I lay still, my body limp, my senses overwhelmed. Greg collapsed face-first onto my pussy, clinging to me with desperate abandon. We lay there for a long time, savoring the lingering pleasure, lost in the aftermath of our mutual release. There was no need for awkward conversation, no need for explanations. We simply rested, connected by the shared experience, our bodies intertwined, our souls intertwined.

Finally, when we both felt ready, we disengaged, slowly and deliberately. He stood up, brushing the sweat from his clothes, and I followed suit, feeling a sense of calm wash over me. He glanced at me, his eyes filled with admiration, before turning and heading for the door.

“How was your day?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“It was perfect,” I replied, my voice husky with pleasure, and I knew, without a doubt, that it had been. The rain continued to fall outside, but inside, in the quiet sanctuary of our bedroom, we had found solace, release, and a connection that transcended words. The memory of the night, the heat, the touch, the shared pleasure, would linger long after the rain had stopped. It was a night I would never forget, a night that had left me utterly and completely satisfied.

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