Mark's laughter still echoes in my head hours after he's gone. The living room feels emptier somehow, the silence more pronounced now that I've had a taste of normal human interaction. Anchorman was better than I thought it’d be.
Now I'm just loafing around, waiting for Emily to come home. The clock on the wall ticks methodically toward 9 PM. I've been checking it every few minutes like some lovesick teenager waiting for a text.
I can't believe how late she works. When she said she'd be home "late," I was thinking 6 or 7, not pushing 9 on a weeknight. What kind of corporate lawyer keeps these hours? The kind that makes enough money for a house like this, I guess.
The TV drones on, some mindless reality show I'm not really watching. My attention keeps drifting to the garage door, straining to hear the sound of her BMW pulling in.
At exactly 9:00, I hear it, the mechanical whirr of the garage door opening. My heart does this stupid little jump in my chest that I'd be embarrassed to admit to anyone.
I'm off the couch in an instant, practically sprinting to the door that connects to the garage. At the last second, I catch myself, slowing to a casual stroll. I lean against the doorframe with practiced nonchalance, as if I just happened to be passing by when she arrived.
The car door slams, and there she is, tall, blonde, intimidating as ever in her power suit. Her face is set in hard lines, eyes narrowed, jaw clenched tight. She looks absolutely livid about something, her shoulders rigid with tension as she gathers her things from the passenger seat.
Then she turns, and our eyes connect.
The transformation is immediate and startling. Like someone flipped a switch inside her, the anger melts away, replaced by a softness that makes her look years younger. Her whole body seems to relax, her face opening up with genuine surprise.
"Are you greeting me?" she asks, her voice carrying a note of wonder that makes my chest tighten.
"Of course," I say, stepping forward to take her briefcase and purse. Our fingers brush during the exchange, and I swear I can feel her trembling slightly. "Long day?"
I set her things on the counter, and the moment my hands are free, Emily wraps her arms around me, pulling me into a hug so tight it makes my still-tender ribs protest. I don't care. I hug her back just as fiercely, breathing in her expensive perfume mixed with something uniquely her.
"A woman could get used to this," she murmurs against my neck, her breath warm on my skin.
"Wouldn't that be nice?" I say softly, enjoying the weight of her against me. "Welcome home."
She doesn't let go, just nestles deeper into my embrace like she's trying to melt into me. The tension in her body gradually dissolves as we stand there, connected. I run my hand along her back, feeling the expensive fabric of her suit jacket beneath my fingertips.
"Did you eat?" I ask after what feels like minutes, my voice slightly muffled by her hair.
Emily pulls back just enough to look at me, her green eyes soft in a way I'm still getting used to. "Yeah, I had something small in the office."
Before I can respond, she leans forward and kisses me. It's not gentle or sweet, it's desperate, hungry, like she's been starving all day. Her fingers curl into my shirt, pulling me closer as her mouth moves against mine with an urgency that takes my breath away.
When she finally breaks the kiss, her cheeks are flushed, her breathing slightly ragged. "I forgot to work out this morning," she confesses, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I was too busy staring at you while you slept."
Heat crawls up my neck and spreads across my face. "Damn," I manage, not sure if I should be flattered or mildly creeped out. With Emily, the line between sweet and slightly unhinged is razor-thin, but extremely endearing.
Her lips curl into a mischievous smile as she steps back, loosening her tie with practiced fingers. "Do you want to watch me work out right now?"
The way she says it makes it clear she's offering me some kind of treat, a private show just for me. And judging by the gleam in her eyes and the flutter in my stomach, she's absolutely right.
"Yeah," I say, my mouth suddenly dry. "I'd love that."
Emily's smile widens as she kicks off her heels, leaving them where they fall. "Give me five minutes to change," she says, already heading for the stairs. She pauses at the bottom step, glancing back over her shoulder. "Grab me a water bottle."
I watch her disappear upstairs, then head to the kitchen to grab bottles of water from the fridge.
By the time I make it to the home gym, she's already there, dressed in skintight black leggings and a sports bra that leaves little to the imagination. Her blonde hair is pulled back in a high ponytail.
"Perfect timing," she says, looking up as I enter.
She starts with some stretching, and I settle into a chair near the weight rack, water bottles at the ready. There's something hypnotic about watching Emily move through her routine. Each exercise is performed with perfect form, her body a testament to countless hours of dedicated training.
I hand her a water bottle as she finishes a set of squats, sweat already glistening on her skin. She holds my gaze a beat longer than necessary before taking a long drink.
"Thanks, baby," she says, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
She moves to the bench press next, and I can't tear my eyes away from the flex of her muscles as she pushes the weight upward. The concentrated look on her face, the controlled way she breathes through each rep, it's mesmerizing.
Between sets, I'm her faithful water bearer, watching in awe as droplets of sweat trail down her neck, between her breasts, along the ridges of her abs. My body responds embarrassingly quickly to the sight. I shift in my seat, trying to be discreet about adjusting myself.
"See something you like?" she teases after catching me staring during her shoulder presses.
I nod, not trusting my voice. The gym feels about twenty degrees hotter than it should.
After forty-five minutes of weight training, she switches to cardio, pounding away on the treadmill. Her ponytail bounces with each stride, her body moving with athletic grace. I've never seen anything so captivating since I woke up.
The sweat makes her skin shine under the overhead lights, and I have the most primal urge to taste it, to run my tongue along every curve and valley of her body. The thought alone makes me throb uncomfortably against my jeans.
When she finally steps off the treadmill, her chest heaving with exertion, I hand her another water bottle. She downs half of it in one go, letting some spill down her chin and neck.
I'm so distracted that I don't notice hardness is showing again as Emily's eyes flick downward. Her lips curl into a knowing smile, eyes darkening with something predatory.
"I need your help for this last exercise," she says, her voice dropping to that husky register that makes my skin tingle.
"Sure, anything you want," I say, my voice embarrassingly eager even to my own ears.
Emily crooks her finger at me, beckoning me over to one of the weight benches. When I reach her, she places her hands on my shoulders and gently pushes me down until I'm lying flat on my back.
"Just lie here and do what comes naturally," she purrs, hovering above me with that predatory gleam still dancing in her eyes.
"Alright," I manage, my heart hammering so hard I'm sure she can hear it.
Without breaking eye contact, Emily kicks off her athletic shoes. Her fingers hook into the waistband of her leggings, and in one smooth motion, she peels them down her long legs along with her underwear. The casual confidence of her movements leaves me breathless.
She stands over me, half-naked and glistening with sweat, her perfect body on full display. I've seen her naked before, but something about this moment, her standing over me like some kind of goddess while I lie helpless beneath her, makes my brain short-circuit.
Before I can process what's happening, Emily straddles the bench and climbs up, positioning herself directly above my face. There's no warning, no hesitation, she simply lowers herself down, her thighs on either side of my head as her pussy hovers just inches from my mouth.
She sinks down, and my world narrows to nothing but her.
The first taste hits me like an electric shock. Something primal awakens inside me, a desperate hunger I didn't know I possessed. I grab her thighs, pulling her even closer as my tongue explores every inch of her. She's sweet and tangy and impossibly soft, and suddenly I'm the thirstiest man alive.
Emily gasps above me, her hands finding purchase in my hair as she grinds against my eager mouth. "That's it, baby," she moans, her voice husky with desire. "Just like that."
I lose myself completely in the taste of her, in the little gasps and moans that escape her lips with each stroke of my tongue. Her thighs tighten around my head, her fingers tugging at my hair just hard enough to blur the line between pleasure and pain.
"Oh god, Charles," she pants, her hips moving in rhythm with my mouth. "Right there, don't stop."
Droplets of sweat roll down her toned stomach, beading along the defined ridges of her abs before falling into my open mouth. The salt mingles with her sweetness on my tongue, creating an intoxicating flavor that drives me wild. I grip her thighs even tighter, pulling her harder against my face, desperate to taste every part of her.
"Oh fuck," Emily cries out, her voice rising to a pitch I haven't heard before. Her body starts trembling above me, thighs quivering against my cheeks as she begins to come undone. I hold her firmly in place, refusing to let her escape the relentless attention of my tongue.
Her moans grow louder, more frantic, each sound shooting straight to my groin. I'm painfully hard now, straining against my jeans as Emily rocks against my face. The sounds she makes, desperate and primal, only intensify my own need.
"Charles!" she gasps, her back arching as she finally breaks. I feel her pulsing against my mouth, her release flooding my senses as I drink her in, greedy for every drop.
When the tremors finally subside, Emily collapses forward, catching herself on the wall behind the bench. Her chest heaves with labored breaths, her skin flushed and glistening. She looks down at me with those impossibly green eyes, now dark with satisfaction and renewed hunger.
"I need you right now," she pants, moving off my face and lying back on the bench. Her hair has partially escaped its ponytail, blonde strands sticking to her sweat-slicked neck and shoulders.
I've never undressed so quickly in my life. My fingers fumble with buttons and zippers, cursing every layer of fabric between us. When I finally kick off my boxers, Emily's eyes lock onto my cock, her lips curving into an appreciative smile.
The positions are reversed now, me standing over her as she lies waiting on the bench. I position myself between her spread legs, taking in the sight of her, powerful, beautiful, and completely vulnerable all at once.
I push inside her in one smooth motion, a pathetic whimper escaping my throat as I'm enveloped in her wet heat. Looking down at her, sweat-slicked and gorgeous beneath me, I can't believe my luck. She is without question the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, and somehow she's mine.
"God, Emily," I groan, starting to move inside her. "You're incredible."
She wraps her legs around my waist, pulling me deeper. "Harder," she commands, her voice somewhere between a plea and an order.
Something inside me snaps. I grip her hips so hard my fingertips leave white impressions on her skin, and I pound into her with a ferocity I didn't know I possessed. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the gym as I give in to something primal and hungry.
"Fuck," I growl, my voice unrecognizable even to my own ears.
I reach down and yank her sports bra up, exposing her perfect breasts. Without thinking, I bend forward and drag my tongue across her chest, tasting the salt of her sweat. It's intoxicating, better than anything I've ever tasted. My mind goes blank as instinct takes over.
"I love you," Emily gasps, her eyes wide and wild as she watches me.
"I love you too," I pant against her skin, continuing to thrust into her while my tongue traces the valley between her breasts, collecting every drop of sweat like it's precious nectar.
I'm not even sure what I'm doing anymore. My body moves on autopilot as I lick a path up her sternum, across her collarbone, down to the hollow of her throat. Each taste drives me deeper into this frenzy. Her sweat is sweet and salty and uniquely her, and I want all of it.
"Yes! Yes! Yes!" Emily screams, her nails digging into my back as I continue to slam into her.
I follow a rivulet of sweat down the side of her body, my tongue tracing its path along her ribs. When I reach her armpit, some small part of my brain tries to sound an alarm, ‘this is weird, this is too far,’ but then my tongue makes contact, and that voice is silenced. The concentrated taste there is somehow even more addictive, musky, and raw.
I realize what I'm doing and falter for just a moment, a flash of clarity cutting through the haze of lust.
Emily notices my hesitation and grabs the back of my head, pressing my face against her. "Don't stop," she commands, her voice thick with desire.
I surrender completely to whatever beast has possessed me. I lick and suck at her skin while driving into her with renewed vigor, chasing both her pleasure and mine with single-minded determination.
The pressure builds at the base of my spine, electric and unstoppable. Emily's body tightens around me, her back arching off the bench as she screams my name. The sound pushes me over the edge, and I explode inside her with a force that makes my vision blur.
"Fuck, Emily, I'm…" My words dissolve into a long, guttural moan that echoes through the gym. I can't stop the sounds pouring from my throat as wave after wave of pleasure crashes through me. My entire body shudders, hips jerking erratically as I empty myself completely.
Emily's legs lock around my waist, holding me deep inside her as she rides out her own climax. Her walls pulse around me, milking every last drop as we crash through our orgasms together.
When the final tremor subsides, my muscles give out. I nearly collapse on top of her, catching myself at the last second with trembling arms. My chest heaves as I try to remember how to breathe, sweat dripping from my forehead onto her flushed skin.
Emily looks up at me with half-lidded eyes, her cheeks pink and her hair a wild mess around her face. She reaches up to stroke my cheek, her touch surprisingly gentle after the animalistic frenzy we just shared.
"Let's go take a shower, baby," she whispers, her voice hoarse from screaming.
I nod, not trusting myself to form coherent words yet. "Alright.”
You can read early chapters here.
https://subscribestar.adult/astrolust
And a link to my Discord
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