Ryan lay in bed, tangled in the sheets. Most Sunday mornings didn’t allow for this kind of laziness, but Sarah was out of town helping her parents for a week, and he was taking full advantage of the situation.

He was so relaxed that he’d almost forgotten everything that transpired over the past week. He let his eyes drift shut again, sinking deeper into the pillow.

A soft cough cut through the stillness.

His eyes cracked open.

Emily stood in the bedroom doorway, framed by the morning light, wearing a white wrap dress with an oversized purse slung over one shoulder. The spare house key dangled from her finger, spinning in a slow, taunting circle.

“I know Sarah’s out of town,” she said, her lips curling into the faintest smile. “And I know you like to sleep in when she’s not here.” Her eyes looked around the room, taking everything in. “I think it secretly bothers her,” she laughed.

Ryan pushed himself up on both elbows. “You can’t just come walking into my home whenever you feel like it.”

Rather than acknowledging his comment, she let the purse slide from her shoulder to the floor. The key followed, clinking as it landed inside. Without hesitation, her fingers found the knot of her wrap dress and loosened it. She slowly unfurled the fabric, letting it fall from her shoulders.

The dress slipped away easily, nothing underneath to catch or slow its fall. The fabric quietly pooled at her feet, the cool air brushing against her skin. 

Then Emily leaned back against the doorframe, a ghost of a smile playing at her lips. Her hand drifted downward, following the curve of her body. The movement was slow and deliberate. She knew exactly the effect it would have on him.

For a brief moment, Ryan was transported back to their first encounter. He could picture her on the couch, touching herself, his own hand moving in response. This was no accident. It was an invitation.

He shifted, bracing on his left elbow as his right hand started pushing the sheet away.

Emily noticed the movement. “No,” she commanded, a gleam in her eye. “Just watch.”

Ryan obeyed.

She slipped one finger between her lips, then another, saliva coating them with slow precision. The sound, wet and rhythmic, filled the air. Then she moved lower, parting herself, circling once, twice, before pushing inside with a low, shuddering breath.

The only sounds were her breathing and the faint creak of wood as she leaned her weight into the doorframe.

“We both know I shouldn’t be here,” she whispered, her voice unsteady, eyes half-closed. “But I can’t stop thinking about you.” A tremor passed through her, a memory flickering behind her eyelids. “I thought once would be enough. It wasn’t.”

Her rhythm quickened. Across the room, every muscle in Ryan’s body tightened, every breath became an effort. 

It didn’t take long. When she came, it tore through her in waves, her body shaking, her breath short and ragged, silent but unmistakable.

For a heartbeat, the room was still. Ryan couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe.

Emily stayed where she was, trembling, eyes closed, every muscle alive with aftershocks. Eventually, her breathing steadied. Her spine straightened. The softness faded, replaced by something sharper. When she opened her eyes again, the woman looking back at him wasn’t undone. She was in control.

Slowly, deliberately, she pushed away from the doorframe and started toward him.

As she approached, Ryan’s mind split in two. He was lying in the bed he shared with Sarah. The sheets still smelled faintly like her shampoo and lotion. And slowly moving across the room, bathed in warm early-morning light, a devious smile on her lips, was Emily, Sarah’s best friend.

“Not going to ask me to leave?” she teased, her tone a velvet purr.

Emily closed the distance in slow, measured steps, her hips rolling as she moved, the soft light catching the rise and fall of her breasts with every movement. 

Ryan’s pulse thundered in his ears. His half-formed protest never reached his lips and then completely dissolved as she reached the edge of the bed. 

Her fingertips brushed the sheet, dragging it down just far enough to expose his chest and stomach. “God, you look good,” she murmured, climbing onto the mattress. The faint scent of her arousal reached him as she moved up his body, her skin grazing his in whisper-light contact. Her hair spilled over one shoulder, tickling his chest as she leaned in, her lips ghosting over his jaw before she pulled back with a wicked smile. 

“Thinking about Sarah?” she asked softly, almost mockingly. “I’d be disappointed if you weren’t.”

His jaw tightened, the words hitting him hard. Not with guilt, but with the sheer, electric charge of how wrong this was. And yet, unlike his two previous encounters with Emily, he wasn’t questioning anything this time. If anything, his mind was trying to comprehend what could only be described as a new reality. 

On one hand, he had a loving wife, who had been his anchor, his life. And on the other hand, this… A girlfriend on the side? A mistress? A fuck buddy? Whatever this was, he realized he wanted it and that he was going to have to figure out how to navigate it. Surprisingly, the thought didn’t send him into panic like it should have. Instead, a quiet certainty came over him. 

With a gentle but insistent push, she pressed him flat against the mattress, pulling him back into the moment. “Stay right there,” she whispered. Without breaking eye contact, she swung one leg over him, settling forward until she was straddling his face, her body hovering just above him.

“Since you didn’t answer my question, I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.” She leaned in just a fraction more, her eyes locked on his. “I am going to make you forget she exists… Right up until the moment I decide to let you remember.”

Before he could respond, Emily lowered herself onto him, a soft gasp escaping her lips.

She was warm, slick, and absolutely intoxicating. He groaned into her, his hands instinctively moving to her hips, but she caught his wrists and pinned them flat against the mattress on either side of his head.

“No,” she said, her voice low but firm, her palm pressing flat against his chest and forcing him to pause. “You are not in charge right now.”

She rocked her hips forward just enough to drag herself over his mouth. “Start slow,” she instructed, her tone as much a command as it was a tease. “Just your tongue, no rushing.”

Ryan obeyed, flicking the tip of his tongue lightly against her clit, tracing slow circles that made her sigh above him. Her fingers threaded into his hair, not to pull him closer, but to guide the pace. A subtle pressure when she wanted more, a loosened grip when she wanted him to ease off.

“That’s it,” she murmured, tilting her head back, her breath hitching as he followed her rhythm. “Keep that pressure… Oh god! Right there.”

Her hips began to roll in slow, deliberate movements, pressing herself against his mouth just the way she liked. “Open wider.” She shifted forward, letting him taste her more deeply, his tongue sliding through her folds as her wetness coated his lips and chin.

Every so often, she’d pause her motion, hovering above him, making him wait. Then she would grind down again, a small gasp escaping her each time his tongue hit the right spot. “Yes… There… Don’t you dare stop,” she squealed as her thighs tightened around his head.

The pace built gradually, her voice dropping into low, breathy commands. “Suck… Now flick… Harder. Yes, like that.” Her body trembled with each instruction, her words breaking into soft moans as his mouth worked her exactly the way she wanted.

“Oh, Ryan…” she suddenly gasped, her grip in his hair tightening. “You’re going to make me…”

She cut herself off with a shuddering cry, grinding down hard against his mouth as the first waves hit her. She kept him there, riding his face through the climax, her thighs clamping tight, her hips moving in desperate, jerking motions until she finally slowed, her breathing ragged.

When she lifted herself just enough for him to breathe, her smirk returned. “Not bad,” she said, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “But I’m nowhere near done with you.”

Emily didn’t move off him right away. She stayed straddling his face, the heat and taste of her still flooding his senses, her thighs framing his head, her fingers curling in his hair.

Then, with a slow shift of her hips, she spun herself around and leaned forward, bracing one hand on his stomach. Her other hand caught the edge of the sheets and shoved them down, bringing him completely to her view. His cock stood hard and heavy.

She kept herself pressed against his mouth as she wrapped her hand around his shaft, stroking lazily while his tongue started to work her again. “That’s it… Just like that,” she said breathlessly, looking down at him between strokes.

Lowering her head, she let her lips brush the swollen head, her tongue flicking over him in a slow circle before taking him between her lips. The angle forced her to move deliberately, her mouth sliding down over him in steady, wet pulls while her hips rolled forward against his mouth. 

Emily loved this, the feel of his cock stretching her lips, filling her throat. She reveled in the way he twitched against her tongue. Every groan from him vibrated against her swollen clit, each rumble sending sharp sparks of pleasure shooting through her body. Every moan from her reverberated down the length of his cock.

She moved with steady control, setting the pace for both of them as she rocked her hips down onto his tongue while her mouth slid lower and lower over him. Her lips sealed tight, cheeks hollowing with every pull, coating him in spit until he glistened in the morning light. The heat of his tongue buried in her pussy made her grind harder against his face. 

The wet sounds between them blended into a filthy rhythm that left them both teetering on the edge. Every flick of his tongue made her throat tighten, and every greedy swallow made his mouth work faster against her clit. Neither could give in without unraveling the other, and that unbearable tension only made her push him deeper, take him harder, lose herself more completely in a perfect, torturous rhythm.

The rhythm broke when Emily pulled back suddenly. She straightened up and slid across his chest and stomach in one smooth motion, her slick heat smearing a wet trail across him until she reached his cock. Slowly, deliberately, she lowered herself onto him into reverse cowgirl, sinking down inch by inch, her back arching in a shameless display. 

Emily rolled her hips in a slow, deliberate grind and leaned forward. She then started to alternate between slamming herself all the way down on him until he was fully sheathed inside her and pulling up just enough to twerk against the thick head. Ryan looked down and groaned out loud as her amazing ass filled his view.

Each switch made his jaw clench, the pressure inside him climbing dangerously close. The sight of her ass playfully bouncing in front of him, followed immediately by his length buried inside her, it was nearly too much to take.

Emily’s pace quickened, her movements turning into something raw and urgent. Her hips snapped down against him with a sharp, hungry rhythm, every thrust making her ass bounce in a way that threatened to drive Ryan mad. The wet slap of skin on skin filled the room, her breath turning ragged, her moans climbing higher until they teetered on the edge of desperation.

She braced her hands on his thighs for leverage, grinding down harder, taking him as deep as she could. “Oh fuck, Ryan…” she gasped, her voice breaking. Her back arched, head tipping back as the tension coiled tight in her core. At the last second, she lifted herself off him, keeping her back to him as her body locked up.

A hot gush spilled from her, splattering onto the sheets between his legs. She shuddered violently, more wetness pouring from her in rhythmic pulses, soaking the bed beneath her. 

A choked laugh escaped through her panting breaths. “Guess we’re doing laundry again,” she said, glancing over her shoulder with a sly, breathless grin.

Ryan’s eyes lit up. “Not until I punish you for making a mess,” he said, his tone dripping with mock scolding.

His hand shot out, gripping her by the hair as he pushed into her from behind in one hard thrust, the sudden stretch drawing a sharp cry from her. The next thing she knew, he was kneeling behind her. His grip in her hair tightened as he began to fuck her. Hard. Relentless. The sound of their bodies colliding echoed through the room. She clawed at the sheets, each thrust forcing another moan from her lips.

“God! Yes! Just like that…” she cried, her voice breaking as her body shook under the force of his pace. The pressure built fast, and with a choked gasp, she came again, her walls clenching hard around him as she buried her face in the sheets.

Feeling her peak ripple through her, Ryan gritted his teeth and shifted his grip, ready to pull out and finish across the curve of her ass. His release was close, the image of his cum painting her skin already forming in his mind.

“Stay,” she gasped, pushing back into him with urgency. “I want you to cum inside me! Fill me up!”

Her words lit a fuse in him. His grip on her hips tightened, knuckles whitening as he drove into her with sharp, deep thrusts. She was still quivering from her orgasm, her body clenching around him with every stroke, milking him toward his own.

“God, Emily…” he groaned, the tension snapping as he buried himself to the hilt. His release poured into her in heavy, throbbing spurts, so much that she whimpered at the heat flooding her. Each pulse sent a shiver up her spine.

When he finally eased back, his thick spill followed, running down the insides of her thighs and pooling onto the already-soaked sheets. She glanced over her shoulder, still catching her breath, and let out a husky little laugh.

“Yeah, you are definitely doing a load of laundry.”

*****

Emily retreated to the bathroom to clean up and get dressed. Ryan stripped the bed, grabbed a robe, and went to join her in the kitchen.

She was sitting at the island, calm and comfortable, as if the previous half hour had never happened. To an outside observer, the scene now resembled any other Sunday morning. Ryan half expected Sarah to walk around the corner any moment. 

“Coffee?” 

Emily nodded, watching as he shifted into what she imagined was his normal weekend routine. 

When the coffee was ready, he poured two cups and joined her at the kitchen island. For a long moment, neither of them said a word. The air between them was different now.

She studied him, her head tilting slightly. “You look like you’re trying to figure out how to hit rewind,” she said softly.

Ryan let out something between a breath and a laugh. “Actually, no,” he admitted.

Emily’s mouth curved into a faint smile. “Good. We both know there’s no rewind button for this one.” She shifted closer, her voice dropping into that low, dangerous register he’d come to recognize. “We need to decide where this is going.”

Ryan thought of Sarah. Her warmth, her kindness, the quiet routines they shared. Then he thought of Emily. She was fire where Sarah was earth, chaos where Sarah was order. With Emily, it was like every restraint in him evaporated the second she entered the room. He didn’t just want her. He wanted what he became when he was with her.

He met her eyes. “It’s different with you.”

Another faint, knowing smile. “I know.”

He exhaled. “The way we are together. No hesitation. No shame. You don’t flinch. You don’t apologize. You just…”

“Want,” she finished for him. “And so do you.”

Silence stretched between them. Not awkward. Heavy. Honest.

Ryan scrubbed a hand over his face, trying to process his thoughts out loud. “So what is this supposed to be? An affair? Some kind of…”

“Don’t label it to make yourself feel better,” she cut him off, gently but firmly. “Labels make it neat. And this is anything but neat.” She stood and leaned over the island. “I would never ask you to choose between me and her. You know that, right?”

He didn’t respond. Not verbally. But something in him shifted, a quiet acceptance of a truth he’d already been living with for days.

Emily watched his face. Her voice softened. “Here’s the thing. We do this with our eyes open. We don’t pretend it’s harmless. We don’t make promises we can’t keep. But when we’re together…” Her eyes softened, showing vulnerability she rarely allowed. “…we don’t hold back. No inhibitions.”

Ryan’s pulse quickened. Her words unleashed possibilities and fantasies he never voiced, the parts of himself he’d buried under routine, under loyalty, under fear.

“And if it blows up?” he asked. 

She didn’t say anything right away. Instead, she reached for her coffee. She took a slow sip, eyes fixed on the dark surface inside the mug rather than him. Her shoulders rose and fell with a breath she didn’t fully release.

When she finally spoke, her voice was quieter. “If this blows up, it won’t just be messy.” Her eyes stayed on the coffee for another beat before she set the mug down, fingers tracing the rim. “You know what it would cost you, what it would cost her.”

Only then did she look at him again. This time her eyes weren’t daring him, they were asking him to understand. “But remember, this would impact me too. Sarah is…” She swallowed, jaw tight for a moment. “She’s my best friend. If this blows up, I’m not pretending I walk away from this unscathed.”

Something tightened in his chest and he let out a slow breath. “So, despite the obvious risks, we agree that we should keep going.”

“Yes,” she said, without hesitating.

He looked at her for a long moment, really seeing her. Fiery, fearless, but not invincible. Then he nodded.

Something eased in her shoulders. Not relief exactly, but recognition. “We agree to one rule. Whatever this is… Whatever this becomes… When we’re in the moment, we’re in it. All the way.”

Ryan nodded as his gaze drifted across the room. And for the first time, he understood. He really understood. This wasn’t a mistake he could erase or a dream he could wake up from. This was now a conscious decision. A new path forward. And he was finally ready to embark on this journey, eyes wide open.

Movement pulled him back into the moment. Emily was circling the island, a newfound confidence in the way she moved, a mischievous smile on her face. She stopped behind him, fingers brushing the back of his neck before using his shoulders to give the stool a firm, deliberate spin.

Ryan held his breath. When the stool came to a stop, she was standing between his legs. She stepped in, close enough that he could feel the heat of her body. Her scent hit him, stirring something low and primal in him, making his cock come alive beneath the robe.

She leaned down, catching his jaw with one hand, and kissed him. It wasn’t soft. It was the kind of kiss that stole air, the kind that tasted like everything they shouldn’t be doing but were going to do anyway.

Her hands slid down his chest, nails grazing just enough to make him shudder. When her fingers found the knot in the robe, she didn’t rush. She toyed with it, tugging lightly, letting the belt slip looser with each pull. Her grin curved slow and wicked against his mouth. 

Then, with a soft push, the robe fell open, warm air washing over his skin. Her hand slid lower, deliberate and sure, wrapping around him like she’d been here a hundred times before. The heat of her palm made his breath stutter, his body reacting before his brain could form a single thought.

“Em,” he murmured, voice low, “are you sure?”

The question wasn’t hesitation. It was validation. He was giving her one last out, even as his pulse fluttered at his throat.

The room felt quieter. Ryan was right, this wasn’t temptation anymore. And for the first time, they were doing this with eyes open, together.

Her answer came out rough, but certain. “I’m sure.” She leaned in until her lips brushed his ear, her breath hot against his skin. “You up for round two?”

The words were raw, deliberate, and real. He shrugged his shoulders back, letting the robe fall as her fingers tightened around him in perfect sync with her breath. 

Her mouth hovered near his jaw, her voice dropping even lower. “And when you’re close,” she breathed, her smile curling against his skin, “I want you to finish on my pretty face. I want to feel and taste every drop.”

She pulled back just far enough to look up at him, her eyes wide and hopeful. “Would you do it for me?”

Ryan couldn’t find his voice. A slight nod gave her the answer she already knew. 

She leaned back, her hands catching his as she dropped to her knees, pulling him to his feet with deliberate ease. Her fingers curled around the back of his thighs as she tilted her head. The first touch of her mouth was soft, wet, and devastatingly slow. She took him, inch by inch, unhurried. Each movement drew him deeper until the heat of her mouth surrounded him completely, leaving his breath unsteady and his hands flexing uselessly at his sides.

Her rhythm grew steadier, heat and wetness wrapping around him in a way that made thought impossible. Then she reached up, found his hand, and guided it to the back of her head. Her fingers curled around his, pressing his palm gently against her hair, showing him exactly where she wanted him.

She drew back slowly, letting him slip free with a soft, wet sound, a thin strand of spit connecting them for a heartbeat. Her lips were flushed, her breathing uneven, but her smile was pure mischief.

“Use my mouth,” she whispered, looking up at him from her knees, voice low and confident. “I want it.”

She dipped her head forward and wrapped her mouth around him again, slow and deliberate, as if reclaiming him. The pull of her lips drew a shudder from deep in his chest. She set her pace with careful precision, finding the rhythm of his breathing and folding it into her own, each movement drawing a ragged sound from deep in his chest. 

She held his gaze through it all, steady and unblinking, telling him that this was exactly where she wanted to be.

Ryan’s grip tightened in her hair, anchoring himself on the sight of her on her knees. She tilted her head slightly into his hold, silently urging him to take what he wanted.

He started to thrust his hips. The first was tentative, almost reserved. The next was deeper. Controlled. A test.

Her throat opened to meet him without hesitation, a soft, wet sound filling the air as he slid deeper. His breath caught, half groan, half plea. He felt his world narrow until there was nothing except the wet heat of her mouth.

Emily’s hands smoothed up the backs of his thighs, urging him forward with a deliberate pressure. Her eyes never left his. His hips moved with a slow, measured rhythm that grew heavier with each stroke. She took him all, her jaw relaxed, her throat swallowing every inch with practiced ease.

When he tightened his fist in her hair, she moaned around him, the sound vibrating through him like an electric current. It wasn’t just pleasure anymore. It was possession and permission tangled in one filthy, perfect moment.

“Emily!” he hissed, voice low and cracked at the edges.

She answered with a soft hum, her tongue flicking against him as if to say yes, more. He gave it to her. Harder now. His thighs trembled as each thrust slid slick and deep down her throat. Her hands moved up to his hips, holding onto him as if she wanted to feel the weight of every second.

His pulse thundered. His breath hitched. He could feel the warning coil at the base of his spine, tightening fast. Her eyes flashed when she felt him swell against her tongue and his grip loosen. She pulled back just far enough to let the head drag against her glistening lips, her breath hot against him.

“Cum for me,” she whispered, her voice wrecked and deliciously sure.

Ryan’s head fell back as the surge hit him. He spilled across her face and mouth in thick, messy spurts. Emily didn’t flinch. She let it coat her, eyes locked on him like she was memorizing every tremor, every broken sound that left his mouth.

When it was done, she exhaled slowly, dragging her fingertips through the slick warmth on her skin. She smeared it around and licked it from her fingers like a woman claiming her own sin.

A soft laugh slipped from her, breathless and delighted. “Jesus, Ryan,” she murmured, dragging a finger through the warm mess on her cheek. “Less than thirty minutes ago, I thought you had completely emptied yourself… And now this.” Her smile curled, dark and hungry. “You’re something else.”

Ryan stumbled back a half step, chest heaving. Emily remained on her knees for a moment longer, wiping the last of his seed off her face with both fingers and then licking them clean.  

Finally she stood. She wrapped both hands around his neck and pulled him toward her. And then she kissed him. Slow at first. Then with a spark and intensity that made his pulse race all over again. 

He tasted himself on her tongue. Bold, new, intoxicating. He slowly wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight. 

Standing there together, his entire body still humming, he felt everything clearly. Not fear this time, but adrenaline, curiosity, and possibility. And yes, he wanted it. All of it.