Chapter 119 A Solo Night 02

Chapter 119 A Solo Night 02
My body was still humming, little electric aftershocks twitching through my thighs and belly. The toy was still buried deep inside me, warm from my heat, slick with everything I’d already given it. I hadn’t pulled it out yet, I didn’t want to. Every tiny shift of my hips sent a fresh ripple of pleasure through me, keeping me right on that delicious, oversensitive edge.

I lay there panting, one arm flung over my eyes, the other resting between my legs, palm cupping the base of the dildo like I was claiming it. My clit was swollen and tender, but not done. Not even close.

“Fuck… you’re greedy tonight,” I muttered to myself, voice thick and wrecked.

I gave the toy a slow, experimental twist. My inner walls fluttered around it instantly. A low, needy sound slipped out of me before I could stop it.

Yeah. Round two was already calling.

I reached down with both hands now, gripping the base, I pulled it out halfway—slow, deliberate—then pushed it back in with one smooth, deep stroke.

“Ohhh god—”

My hips rolled up to meet it like it had a mind of its own. I started fucking myself again, lazy at first, savoring the drag of every ridge against my sensitive walls. The wet sounds were louder now, obscene, filling the whole room.

I spread my legs wider, knees falling open, giving myself full access. One hand kept working the toy—in long, steady thrusts—while the other went back to my clit. Just light touches at first, teasing, circling, and giving barely enough pressure.

“You’re such a filthy little slut,” I whispered, half laughing, half moaning. “One orgasm and you’re already begging for more. Can’t get enough cock, can you?”

The fantasy shifted. This time it wasn’t faceless, this time it was him—some rough, tattooed guy I’d seen at the bar last week. Dark hair, dangerous smile, the kind of hands that looked like they knew exactly how to bruise in the best way.

In my head he was standing at the foot of the bed, shirtless, jeans still on but unzipped, stroking himself while he watched me destroy myself.

“Look at you,” fantasy-him growled. “Fucking yourself stupid on that fat toy. Bet you wish it was me stretching you open, don’t you?”

I whimpered, thrusting the dildo harder and faster.

“Yeah,” I gasped out loud. “I want it. Want your cock splitting me apart. Want you to pin me down and fuck me until I can’t walk.”

My fingers flew over my clit now, matching the rhythm of the toy. Pressure built again—sharper this time, and more desperate.

I was dripping down my ass, soaking the sheets. The smell of sex was everywhere—musky, sweet, intoxicating.

I was so lost in it I almost didn’t hear my phone buzz on the nightstand.

Almost.

The screen lit up. A name flashed.

Jake.

The boring date guy.
My first instinct was to ignore it. But then a wicked little thought wormed its way in.

What if…?

I slowed the toy, keeping it buried deep, clenching around it while I reached for the phone with my free hand. My fingers were slick; I had to wipe them on the sheet before I could swipe to answer.

I hit speaker, but didn’t say anything yet.

“Ava?” His voice came through, hesitant. “Hey… uh, just wanted to check you got home okay.”

I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. He had no idea, no fucking idea.

I rolled my hips once, slowly, grinding the curved head against my G-spot. A soft, involuntary moan slipped out before I could catch it.

“Ava? Are you there?”

“Yeah,” I managed, voice husky, wrecked. “I’m… here.”

“You sound… out of breath. Is everything okay?”

I almost laughed, instead I started moving the toy again while I answered.

“Just… working out,” I lied, the words trembling. “Cardio. You know.”

Another thrust. Another tiny whimper.

“Oh. Cool. Uh… I had a good time tonight. Was thinking maybe—”

I cut him off with a sharp gasp as I angled the toy just right, hitting that perfect spot again and again.

“Fuck—”

There was silence on the other end. Then, a quieter: “Ava… are you…?”

I should’ve hung up, right? But I didn’t. Instead I whispered, barely audible, “Keep talking.”

He sucked in a breath. “Are you… touching yourself right now?”

My heart slammed against my ribs. Heat flooded my face and everywhere else.

I didn’t answer with words, I answered by fucking myself harder, letting the wet, filthy sounds carry through the speaker.

The toy slammed in and out, and my fingers rubbed frantic circles over my clit.

Jake groaned—low, surprised, turned on.
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered. “You’re really doing it.”

“Yeah,” I panted. “And I’m so fucking close. You gonna stay on the line and listen to me cum, Jake? Or you gonna be a good boy and tell me what you’d do to me if you were here?”

A beat of stunned silence. Then his voice dropped, rougher than I’d ever heard it on the date.

“I’d have you on your knees first,” he said. “That pretty mouth wrapped around my cock. You’d take it deep, wouldn’t you? Choke on it like the greedy girl you are.”

My whole body clenched at his words. I fucked myself faster, chasing the high.

“More,” I begged. “Tell me more.”

“I’d bend you over the bed,” he continued, voice thick. “Spread you wide, and eat that dripping pussy until you’re shaking. Then I’d fuck you—hard, and deep. Make you scream my name while I fill you up.”

I was shaking already. The toy hit that spot again and again, and my clit throbbed under my fingers.

“Jake—fuck—I’m gonna—”

“Do it,” he growled. “Cum for me, Ava. Let me hear it.”

That did it. The orgasm slammed into me like a wave, harder than the first one, violent, blinding.

I cried out, loud and broken, hips bucking wildly as my cunt clamped down on the toy, pulsing, gushing, soaking my hand, the sheets, everything.

Wave after wave tore through me until I collapsed, trembling, gasping, the phone still clutched in my sweaty palm. For a long moment there was only the sound of our breathing—mine ragged, his heavy and stunned.

Then, softly, he said, “Holy shit.”

I laughed—weak, shaky, euphoric. “Yeah,” I whispered. “Holy shit.”

I pulled the toy out slowly, whimpering at the emptiness, set it aside, and rolled onto my side, still catching my breath.

Jake cleared his throat. “So… uh… can I call you again tomorrow?”

I smiled into the dark, lazy and satisfied.
“Maybe,” I teased. “If you’re lucky.”

I ended the call before he could reply.

Then I lay there, wrecked and glowing, already wondering how much filthier round three could get.