Chapter Text
It had begun soon after he had moved by himself into his newly acquired, smaller flat after his unnecessarily dramatic and messy divorce, which practically everyone at work seemed to have heard about nowadays.
It had been a bit embarrassing at first to be on the receiving end of so many sympathetic looks, but Sally had told all of them off, and the looks thrown his way had trickled down to none.
At least he had finally got his freedom, and here he was living on a single floor furnished with cosy furniture, mismatched as they were, squirrelled away in one of the many Victorian houses in Islington.
It certainly helped that it was close to his workplace at the Met.
But speaking of the occurrence mentioned afore, which started to occur consistently thereafter, Greg could do nothing but let it happen.
It had started the night he had finally taken off that horrid wedding ring while standing in his en-suite.
Unbeknownst to him, with the simple removal of a ring, he had inevitably welcomed something not quite of this world to his humble abode.
He had left it on the sink top before switching off the light and heading into his room.
One could tell at a glance that his bedroom was his favourite room, and it was obvious with the care and detail he had put into the layout of it all.
Greg usually preferred simple things considering how he grew up and his background, but he had splurged the smallest amount after he had purchased his new bed, a four-poster made of dark mahogany wood to match his bedside tables and other bedroom furniture, which he had personally picked out under the approving gaze of the sales assistant helping him.
The furniture store assistant had told him that he could have curtains or a canopy, and he had quickly decided on curtains instead of a canopy, as he thought it might be more hassle than it was worth.
A canopy would've been too romantic as well, and Greg didn’t need to delude himself like that. The curtains were now tied out of the way to the four posts at each corner of the bed, giving it a practical feel.
It must be mentioned that the new bed in question was queen-sized.
He had decided on the bigger bed on a whim even though he knew he would most likely never sleep with anyone else again, but a man could dream.
It had several more pillows than one would expect of him, along with a plush duvet and more comfy blankets piled on top of it. The mattress was soft and cool, and it made Greg usually fall right to sleep when he lay down unless he was trying to get some reading or work done.
And therein lay the occurrence.
It had started at first as a gentle tease, fluttering touches along his chest and trailing down his happy trail without quite touching the end of it. Greg initially felt like he should panic, but his mind was tired, after a long day at work, and figured it might end up as a very nice dream.
So, it went on.
Greg lay in the middle of his bed facing the wall, his arms hugging a bunched-up blanket when he felt the bed dip and someone lay down behind him, yet Greg did not panic and instead cosied in as he felt a slight exhale near his ear.
An arm went under his neck, so his head rested lightly on the shoulder of the stranger his mind had conjured up. A hand reached for and held one of his own, fingers intertwined.
The other arm went over his middle pulling him back into the other body, causing their chest to be flush against his back. Greg felt a groan build up at how good it felt to be held after so long but settled down again and slowly tipped further forward as the body caged him in.
The insistent push and the pressure of it all were delightful.
Greg felt a nipple being teased, tweaked and pulled before the same was happening to the other, then it was happening to both simultaneously.
The material of his pyjamas made the feeling headier, and then they were both pinched at once, which made him groan into the arm pillowing his head.
His cock had started to fill while he pushed his arse back into the body behind him, grinding into it.
By now Greg realised that although both his hands were being held, ministrations were being made to his nipples along with his pecs being squeezed and massaged, and instead of thinking it odd, he just rode the high of this very good dream.
His mind was doing such a good job with this fantasy.
He held the hands in his own, grip almost crushing while pushing back insistently into the other body.
“Mmmmhm....ah.....ah......mmhmm.... yes, yes, yes...” small pleas which were answered with “so good, darling, just like that” and “keep going” all the while Greg continued to pant and moan softly.
Greg felt he recognised the voice, but he also thought that he might not; it was confusing, to say the least.
All he could feel and do was grind into the hardness behind him, the weight and warmth of it driving him into an almost frenzy.
He had not felt this heavily aroused in several years at least, not been able to share any pleasure with his wife as she had been too busy cavorting around the city with every Tom, Dick and Harry she knew.
But here he was, desperate as his cock drooled in his pyjama trousers while insistent touches brushed against his entire body, one, in particular, travelling further down until it was wrapped around his cock, stroking in time with the thrusts against his arse.
Greg had not been penetrated in at least a decade and a half, and he had forgotten how good it had felt.
And he thought about it now—
“Please, please, please, fuck,” he whimpered, not sure what he was begging for or who he was begging, having only a soft, amused chuckle as a reply.
The touches were causing his mind to overload as he felt his orgasm build up.
“Harder, please, please,” he begged as he bit and laved at the arm cushioning his head, laying wet open-mouthed kisses on it.
The hold around his cock tightened, and several strokes later, Greg was coming.
“Ahhh, ah, oh, oh my god, ohhh,” he groaned out softly as the body behind him cocooned him completely, pushing him onto his front completely while it rocked and thrust against his arse. His pyjama trousers were sticky with ejaculate before he felt a wetness land on his naked skin, on his arse cheek to be precise, which should not be possible due to his pyjamas.
Greg was much more uninhibited post-orgasm and instead melted further into his bed under the weight of the other body, relaxing and letting the other figure pepper kisses on his shoulders and along his neck while strong hands rubbed and massaged along his body.
This was a very good dream indeed.
He did not notice when his pyjama bottoms were gently removed before he was cleaned with a washcloth. It would not do for him to wake up uncomfortable.
He was tucked in gently.
Then the figure took a moment to watch the sleeping man before he disappeared in a black puff of smoke, a smirk gracing his lips.