Greg's Solitary Sin

Greg, a man of few words, retreats to his dimly lit room, the scent of aged wood and leather enveloping him. His eyes linger on the worn Bible on his desk, guilt gnawing at him. Yet, his hand betrays his thoughts, slipping beneath his trousers to stroke his hardening cock. He imagines forbidden acts, his breath hitching as he plunges his fingers into his tight ass, the only pleasure he allows himself. The creaking floorboards alert him to a presence, and he quickly composes himself, hiding the evidence of his sin.

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