The afternoon stretches out like taffy, sticky and endless.
I'm sprawled on the white couch, my phone balanced on my chest as I scroll through nothing in particular. Emily's been in the bedroom for the past twenty minutes, and the silence from that direction feels wrong somehow. She said she needed to clean after we finished lunch, which made zero sense considering the bedroom was already spotless this morning. Emily keeps everything immaculate. It's one of those things I've learned about her over the months, she can't stand clutter or disorder.
My thumb pauses mid-scroll when I hear her voice drift down the hallway.
"Danny?"
The way she says my name makes something in my stomach flip. It's not urgent or worried. It's that particular tone she uses when she wants me, low and honey-sweet and impossible to refuse.
"Yeah?" I call back, setting my phone on the coffee table.
"Can you come here?"
I push myself up from the couch, my bare feet padding across the hardwood toward the bedroom. The door's cracked open, and I can see movement inside, shadows shifting across the walls in the afternoon light filtering through the curtains.
"Be naked when you get in here, okay?"
The words stop me dead in my tracks just outside the door. Heat floods my face immediately, spreading down my neck to my chest. My fingers fumble with the hem of my shirt, suddenly clumsy.
"Alright," I manage, my voice coming out rougher than I intend.
I strip quickly in the hallway, my shirt hitting the floor first, then my sweatpants and boxers in a tangled heap. The air conditioning raises goosebumps across my skin as I stand there completely exposed, my cock already beginning to harden in anticipation of whatever Emily has planned.
My hand hovers over the doorknob for just a second, my heart hammering against my ribs.
Then I push the door open and step inside.
The bedroom TV catches my eye first, Emily's massive flat screen mounted on the wall opposite the bed. It's on, the screen glowing with an image that makes my brain stutter and restart.
A video. Wide angle, like someone just propped a phone up and hit record. The frame's a little off-center, showing a hotel bed with generic beige sheets. And Emily. Her silver hair spilling forward as she's bent over, her lips wrapped around someone's cock.
My mouth goes dry.
The angle's identical to the video Holly showed me a while ago, that same wide-screen setup that suggests a phone casually placed on a dresser or nightstand. Emily's head bobs rhythmically, and I can see the way her cheeks hollow, the way her throat works as she takes him deeper.
"Danny."
My eyes tear away from the screen to find Emily on our bed, positioned on all fours facing away from me. She's completely naked, her silver braid draped over one shoulder, the curve of her spine leading down to the swell of her ass. She looks back at me over her shoulder, her blue eyes dark with something that makes my cock twitch despite the confusion swirling in my head.
"You were such a good boy," she purrs, her voice thick with satisfaction. "I wanted to finally grant your request."
The words click into place. The conversation we had about exploring this, about me wanting to see her with clients. The promise she made before everything with Holly's grandmother and Jessica derailed us.
I nod, unable to form words. My eyes drift back to the TV screen where video-Emily is gagging slightly, pulling back with a string of saliva connecting her lips to the man's cock. She looks gorgeous like that.
My cock hardens fully, standing rigid between my legs as I watch her dive back down, taking him to the root.
"Come here, baby," Emily says from the bed, wiggling her hips slightly in invitation. "You can watch while you fuck me."
The words shatter whatever paralysis was holding me in place. I move toward the bed on autopilot, my eyes darting between the screen and Emily's body. She's slick already, I can see the evidence of her arousal glistening between her thighs.
I climb onto the bed behind her, my hands finding her hips. The position gives me a perfect view of the TV over her shoulder.
"Don't be shy, baby," Emily purrs, her voice dripping with honeyed encouragement. "The water's warm."
She rocks her ass back and forth, the movement deliberate and hypnotic. Her skin grazes my cock with each pass, the friction making my breath catch. Not quite taking me inside yet, just teasing, the slick heat of her pussy dragging along my length in a way that makes my vision blur at the edges.
"Come on," she urges, grinding back harder.
My eyes lock onto the TV screen just as the video shifts. Suddenly Emily's on her back, her silver hair spread across generic hotel pillows. A man looms over her. His hand wraps around her throat, fingers pressing into her pale skin hard enough that I can see the indentations even through the slightly grainy video quality.
And she's loving it.
Her mouth falls open in a silent scream of pleasure as he pounds into her, his cock disappearing and reappearing between her thighs with brutal force. Her eyes roll back, her back arching off the bed despite the hand constricting her airway. The way she's moving, the expression on her face, it's pure ecstasy.
Something primal takes over. I grip Emily's hips and shove my cock inside her in one hard thrust.
"Fuck!" The word tears from her throat, guttural and raw. "Baby, it feels bigger today."
I can barely process her words. My eyes are glued to the screen where video-Emily's being choked harder, the man's fingers digging into her throat with enough force that I can see her skin turning red around the edges. His other hand grips her hip with bruising intensity, holding her in place as he drives into her with mechanical precision.
I could never do that to her. Could never wrap my fingers around her throat like that, could never leave marks on her skin. The thought makes my stomach clench with something that might be guilt or inadequacy or both.
But this client clearly has no such reservations. His grip tightens further, and Emily's face in the video contorts with pleasure so intense it looks almost painful. Her hands claw at the sheets beneath her, her whole body trembling as another orgasm visibly crashes through her.
"Do you like watching Mommy work?" Emily asks from beneath me, her voice breathy and satisfied.
The question hits me like a physical blow. My hips stutter mid-thrust, my brain trying to reconcile the woman on screen with the one impaled on my cock. Both Emily. Both real. Both mine and not mine simultaneously.
"Yeah," I manage, the word coming out strangled. My eyes trace over the video, watching the way her body moves, the perfect arch of her spine as the client drives into her. "Yeah, I really do. You look so fucking beautiful."
Emily's pussy clenches around me at the compliment, and I feel her whole body shudder. But then her voice drops to something darker, more dangerous.
"Do you like knowing your Mommy's a whore who takes cock for a living?"
My cock twitches inside her involuntarily, the crude words sending a spike of arousal straight through me despite the way they make my chest tighten. On screen, the client's hand squeezes harder around video-Emily's throat, and she's coming again, her whole body convulsing with the force of it.
"I love my whore Mommy," I gasp, the admission tearing from somewhere deep and honest.
Emily turns her head to look at me over her shoulder, and I catch the smile that spreads across her face. It's soft for just a second, almost tender, like she finds me adorable. Like my confession is sweet rather than filthy. Then the expression shifts, transforms back into that seductive mask that makes my spine tingle.
"That's right, baby," she purrs, pushing back against me harder. "Treat Mommy like a fuck hole while you watch her get choked."
The permission crashes over me like a wave. My hips snap forward with renewed force, driving deeper as my eyes lock back onto the screen. Video-Emily's face is turning red now, the client's fingers cutting off enough air that her eyes are watering. But she's still moaning, still begging for more in words I can barely hear through the TV speakers.
I grip real-Emily's hips harder, my fingers digging into her flesh as I pound into her. The contrast is dizzying, the brutal choking on screen versus the gentler grip I maintain on her body. I want to be rougher, want to mark her the way that client does, but something in me can't cross that line.
"Harder, Danny," Emily gasps beneath me, her voice cracking. "Use me harder."
Her words break something loose inside me. My hips slam forward with brutal force, driving so deep I feel her whole body jolt beneath me. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mixing with the audio from the TV where video-Emily is still getting her throat crushed while she comes.
My eyes dart between the screen and the real woman beneath me. On TV, the client's finally releasing her throat, and Emily's gasping for air, her chest heaving as another climax tears through her. The sight of it, the knowledge that she got paid to let someone treat her like that, makes my cock throb inside her.
"That's it," Emily moans, pushing back to meet my thrusts. "Fuck your whore Mommy. Show me how much you love watching me work."
The pressure builds at the base of my spine, white-hot and consuming. I'm gripping her hips so hard I know I'll leave marks, but I can't stop. My cock drives into her again and again, each thrust punctuated by her breathless cries.
"I'm close," I gasp, my vision tunneling. "Emily, I'm…"
"Cum inside me," she demands, her voice breaking into a sob of pleasure. "Fill Mommy up while she comes on your cock."
Her pussy clamps down around me like a vice, pulsing in rapid contractions that drag me over the edge with her. My orgasm explodes through me with enough force to make my legs shake, my cock jerking as I empty myself deep inside her. Each spurt feels endless, my entire body locked in the grip of it while Emily's own release tears through her beneath me.
"Fuck, fuck, FUCK!" She's screaming now, her whole body convulsing as I continue to pump into her, riding out both our climaxes until I'm completely spent.
I collapse forward, barely catching myself on my hands before I crush her. My cock slips out of her, and I watch, dazed, as my cum starts to leak from her pussy. The sight makes something possessive and primal roar in my chest.
On the TV, video-Emily is being flipped onto her stomach now, the client's hands spreading her ass cheeks apart. But I can barely focus on it anymore. The real Emily beneath me is trembling, her silver hair plastered to her sweat-dampened skin.
Emily reaches for the remote on the nightstand, her movements languid and satisfied. The screen goes black with a soft click, plunging the room into the quieter intimacy of just us. She shifts, and I follow her lead, our bodies naturally arranging themselves into a spooning position. My chest presses against her back, one arm draped over her waist, our legs tangling together in the mess of sheets.
Her breathing gradually slows, evening out as the aftershocks of her orgasm fade. I can feel the rapid hammer of her heartbeat through her back, gradually settling into something calmer.
Then she turns her head, just enough that I can see her profile in the afternoon light. Her silver hair tickles my nose.
"You know," she says, her voice carrying that particular blend of observation and satisfaction, "that's the hardest I've ever felt you. Like, ever."
Heat explodes across my face, spreading down my neck. My cock, still pressed against her ass, gives a weak twitch at her words despite being thoroughly spent. I bury my face in her hair, unable to meet her eyes even in profile.
"Emily," I mumble, the embarrassment making my voice come out muffled.
She laughs, the sound warm and genuine. Her hand finds mine where it rests on her stomach, interlacing our fingers. "It's a good thing, baby. A very good thing."
The praise does nothing to cool the burning in my cheeks. If anything, it makes it worse. Because she's right. Watching that video, seeing her with that client while I was inside her, it had driven me to a level of arousal I didn't know I was capable of.
Emily's quiet for a moment, her thumb stroking circles against the back of my hand. Then she speaks again, and I feel her body tense slightly, like she's bracing for something.
"Would you ever want to watch me with a client?" she asks, her voice carefully casual. "Not on video. In person."
If I thought I was blushing before, it's nothing compared to now. My entire body feels like it's been set on fire. The question hangs in the air between us, heavy and loaded with implications I'm not sure I'm ready to unpack.
"I..." My voice comes out strangled. I clear my throat, trying again. "Like, actually be there? In the room?"
"Mmhmm." Emily shifts slightly, pressing back against me more firmly. "You could watch. See exactly what Mommy does when she's working. See how other men touch her, use her."
Her hand slides down, finding my cock where it's pressed against her. She wraps her fingers around it, and I feel myself starting to harden again already despite having just finished.
"And then," she whispers, her voice dropping to something that makes every hair on my body stand up, "you could reclaim me."
The word hits me like a physical thing. Reclaim. The possessiveness of it, the implication that she'd be temporarily lost to me only to be taken back, sends blood rushing south so fast it makes me dizzy.
"Show me who I really belong to," she continues, her fingers stroking me with lazy confidence. "Can you imagine it, baby?"
My cock goes from half-hard to rigid between her ass cheeks in seconds. The transformation is so sudden, so complete, that I actually gasp against her hair.
"Oh my." Emily's voice carries genuine surprise mixed with dark amusement. She grinds back against me, feeling the evidence of my arousal pressed between us. "Someone really likes that idea."
I can't form words. My brain has completely short-circuited, filled with images I shouldn't want but desperately do. Watching her with someone else, seeing her used, and then taking her back. Marking her as mine again.
"Let me ask you something," Emily says, and her voice takes on that purr that means she's about to push me somewhere I've never been. "Would you rather reclaim me after a client who uses condoms?"
The question hangs there, innocent on the surface but loaded with meaning. My cock throbs against her, answering before I can.
"Or..." She pauses, letting the word stretch out. Her hand tightens around my shaft, stroking once, twice. "Would you want to reclaim Mommy after she's been marked by someone else? After they've finished inside her?"
The image explodes in my mind with devastating clarity. Emily, her thighs sticky with another man's cum. Letting me fuck her while she's still full of evidence that someone else had her first. The possessiveness of it, the filthy wrongness mixed with the desperate need to prove she's mine despite everything, makes my vision blur.
"Jesus Christ," I breathe, my hips jerking involuntarily.
Emily laughs, low and satisfied, like I've just given her exactly the answer she was looking for. "That's what I thought." She releases my cock, shifting to turn over in my arms until we're face to face. Her blue eyes are dark, pupils blown wide with arousal. "You want the second one, don't you? You want to feel someone else's cum inside me while you fuck me. Want to know that even after they've had me, I still come home to you."
I rock against her ass cheeks, my body answering even as my mouth struggles to form words. "I... I don't know."
The admission comes out weak, uncertain, even as my cock throbs between us with unmistakable enthusiasm. My hips keep moving on their own, grinding against her like they're trying to communicate what my brain can't process.
Emily shifts in my arms, her hand coming up to cup my burning face. Her thumb strokes my cheek with infinite tenderness, and when she speaks, her voice carries nothing but warmth.
"We can do whatever you want, baby." The words are soft, reassuring. "We don't have to rush into anything. There's no judgment here, okay? This is just us talking, exploring what turns you on."
The gentleness in her tone makes something tight in my chest loosen. I press my face into her palm, breathing in the scent of her skin mixed with our combined sweat. My cock is still hard, still pressed against her, betraying exactly how much the idea affects me even as my mind tries to catch up.
"Can we..." The words stick in my throat. Heat floods my face so intensely I'm surprised Emily's hand doesn't burn from touching me. "Can we try the second option?"
The whisper barely makes it past my lips, so quiet I'm not even sure she heard me.
Emily goes completely still. Then her hand slides from my cheek down to grip my chin, tilting my face up until I'm forced to meet her eyes. What I see there makes my breath catch.
Her smile is pure sin. Wicked and delighted and dangerous all at once, like I've just handed her the keys to something dark and beautiful.
"What?" she asks, and her voice drips with false innocence even as her eyes gleam with dark knowledge. "I'm sorry baby, I didn't quite hear you. Can you say that again for Mommy?"
My throat closes up. She heard me. I know she heard me. But she wants me to say it again, louder, more clearly. Wants me to own the filthy desire that's making my cock leak against her thigh.
"The second option," I manage, my voice barely above a whisper but stronger than before. "I want... I want to reclaim you after someone else has finished inside you."
The words hang in the air between us, heavy and irreversible. My heart pounds so hard I can feel it in my throat, waiting for her reaction.
"Of course, baby." Emily's lips find my neck, pressing hot kisses along the column of my throat that make my skin prickle with goosebumps. "We can do anything you want."
I can't look at her. My eyes fix on the ceiling, tracking the patterns in the texture as heat continues to burn through my face. My cock throbs against her thigh, still hard despite everything we just did.
"Can we..." I swallow hard, forcing the words out. "Can we watch more videos too?"
Emily laughs against my neck, the sound rich and warm. Her lips trail higher, finding the sensitive spot just below my ear. "Yes we can, baby." Another kiss, this one lingering. "But only when you're a good boy for Mommy."
Her hand suddenly grips my chin, firmer than before. She forces my face down, making me meet her eyes. The tenderness from moments ago is still there, but there's steel underneath it now. Authority.
"But remember," she says, her voice taking on that edge that makes my stomach flip. "Mommy needs to feel special too sometimes. Vanilla sex is good for a marriage."
Panic floods through me immediately, cold and sharp. My hands come up to grip her arms, desperate to make her understand. "Of course," I say quickly, the words tumbling out in a rush. "I know. I love making you feel special." My voice cracks slightly with the intensity of it. "I don't just see you as a piece of meat, Emily. I swear."
She pulls me against her chest immediately, her arms wrapping around me so tightly I can barely breathe. Her lips press against the top of my head, and I feel her whole body relax.
"I know you don't, baby," she murmurs into my hair, her fingers stroking down my spine. "Mommy knows how much you love her."
I bury my face in her neck, breathing in her scent. The panic subsides slowly, replaced by something warmer. Safer. Her heartbeat thuds steadily against my cheek, grounding me.
"I do love you," I whisper against her skin. "So much it scares me sometimes."
Emily's arms tighten around me. "I love you too, Danny. More than anything in this world."