Lush Life

Late September, 2018, Los Angeles, California.

The house was quiet when I opened my eyes. Ana was gone for a press junket in Beverly Hills. I remembered her kiss before she hurried out of the house. Now it was just faint light peeking through the curtains. I stretched and groaned, content to just rest my eyes for another hour.

At least until my phone dinged.

SECURITY ALERT -MOTION AT FRONT GATE

I blinked. It was barely 9 a.m. I had no deliveries scheduled and Ana wasn't supposed to be back until way later in the day. I tapped into the security feed. A compact black rental car was idling at the gate with the driver's side window down just low enough to peek inside.

At first I couldn't tell who it was. Then I saw the oversized black sunhat tilting awkwardly over a pair of big, nervous eyes and a pale cheek resting on her knuckle.

Emma.

She didn't see the camera, and she didn't know I was watching. She was biting her lip, eyes flicking back and forth like she might turn around at any second. No text. No call. No warning.

Despite still being half-asleep and shirtless, I unlocked the gate.

The car crept up the long driveway, slower than I remembered anything ever driving up it. Like it knew it wasn't supposed to be here.

By the time I opened the front door, Emma had parked but stayed inside.

Her head was tilted slightly down. The hat really was ridiculous.

I stepped outside and she turned slowly, finally letting me see her face. She smiled softly through the window, but she was still nervous.

The car didn't move, not even as I stepped closer. I watched her hesitate before she slowly rolled the window down, the mechanical whirr making the moment even more awkward. Emma peeked out from under the brim of her frankly stupid hat.

"Good morning... Man..." Emma said, her voice just beneath a whisper.

"Not like... I didn't want to call you Dude or Sir. Unless... um..." she trailed off.

"Hi Emma." I smiled. I couldn't help it.

"Hi Jason."

"You really flew all the way out here?" I asked, remembering how bad the flight time is.

"I flew. Then Ubered. Then I rented this." Emma gestured toward the dashboard. "I packed light. A few dresses. A sleep shirt. A comfort sweater. I know it's hot out here, but I mean,"

She was floundering and I let her. Then she stopped.

"You okay?" I asked.

Emma took a deep breath.

"I just missed you. And I didn't want to make it weird or say it over text. So I made it weirder."

I leaned on the window frame of the car, smirking at her.

"You know there's a front door, right?"

That got her to smile. "I wasn't sure if I'd be invited in."

"You showed up with a suitcase and a sunhat. I think you're past the invitation stage."

She looked down, then slowly unbuckled her seatbelt.

"I can leave if it's bad timing."

"It's not," I said, already backing up a step. "Come inside."

She stepped out of the car carefully. The door shut gently behind her. She straightened up, adjusted the oversized hat like it might shield her from the sun and me all at once, then reached into the back seat for her suitcase.

Her yellow sundress swayed against her legs. The fabric clung just enough to the soft slope of her hips, the subtle taper of her waist, the gentle bounce of her chest. Not made to flaunt, but impossible not to notice. Her slim figure had been burned into my brain and refused to heal. That's why I caught myself staring at her, completely forgetting that I had legs of my own.

"Are you gonna open the door," she called out, voice brighter now, "or do I have to sit on the porch like a sad old widow?"

I smirked and stepped back inside.

The door was open before she reached it.

The house had never felt quieter. Just the sound of Emma's sandals tapping softly against the hardwood as I led her down the steps to the basement. It was cooler down there, and mostly unfinished.

"This is where I keep the stuff that doesn't belong anywhere else," I said, flicking on the low hanging lights. "Eventually, I want to build a screening room. Maybe a little booth for sound design. Haven't decided."

Emma nodded as her eyes scanned everything like she was looking at a museum. Not for the first time, I realized how much smaller she made herself when she was curious. She had her hands tucked in front of her, one foot shifting quietly behind the other.

"So do you throw any parties down here? You have the space for it." Emma asked.

"Not really a big party guy. Unless you want one?" I asked.

"It'd be nice. Like a social thing with drinks."

"You? A social thing? Drinks?"

"I..." Emma paused. "Yeah I'm just talking." She giggled.

We wandered back upstairs, her suitcase forgotten near the door. I walked ahead, talking about knocking out a wall to let more light in, redoing the kitchen tiles, maybe adding a real, proper office on the far side of the house.

Emma followed behind, still quiet. When I turned to point out a possible new doorway, she was just standing there. Then she grabbed the front of my shirt, tugged me forward and kissed me hard. Her lips crashed into mine with a force that startled us both, her hands clutching at my chest to keep herself grounded. The brim of her ridiculous hat bumped my jaw and then slid off her head entirely, flopping to the floor like trash.

Her mouth was soft, but the way she kissed me wasn't. It was desperate, wet, and rushed. I pulled back with my hands grasping her sides, giving myself just enough room to breathe.

"Emma..."

She looked up at me, her lips parted and her chest rising and falling fast beneath the sundress. Her hands stayed curled in the fabric of my shirt like she didn't trust me not to walk away.

"You sure?" I asked.

Her face cutely went tight like the question offended her, like I'd missed the point entirely.

"I came across an ocean," she whispered. "Don't make me wait now."

I felt her fingers climb higher, one palm brushing the side of my neck, the other hooking behind my head like she didn't care if we crashed into the drywall. She rose up slightly on her toes and kissed me again, deeper this time.

I stumbled back a step, and she followed. Wherever I moved, she matched me. I could've walked to the ends of the house and she'd still have me cornered. Emma kissed like she'd been holding it in for weeks. Maybe longer. Maybe since the moment we first met.

Her fingers stayed hooked behind my neck like she hadn't decided if she was done. Then she pulled back just enough to speak.

"...Where's my room?" She asked, her voice barely there.

I paused, still thrown off by her boldness.

"You said... you said in London that I'd have my own room here."

"You do." I huffed. Then I nodded towards the end of the hallway. Emma picked up her hat and followed me.

"I can't believe I'm here," she whispered, almost to herself.

I didn't say anything. I just kept going, guiding her down the hall past Ana's studio space, the linen closet, the half-done guest bath. Emma's eyes darted everywhere, like she was filing away every detail of the house. I opened the door near the end of the hall.

"This one."

It wasn't massive, but it was bright and I hoped it would be cozy enough to remind her of her home. Fresh sheets on the bed, a little framed art on the wall. A quiet corner tucked just far enough from everything else.

Emma stepped inside slowly. "This is mine?"

"You asked for your own room."

She turned in a slow circle, her fingers grazing the blanket, then the edge of the windowsill. "You actually made it up for me."

"Well, yeah. I wasn't lying." I said.

"I know. But... still."

Emma dropped her hat on the chair by the wall, then took two quick steps forward and hugged me. Not a tight, desperate hold like before. This one was soft. She was bouncing slightly. Her arms around my waist, her cheek pressed against my chest. Like she couldn't stop the joy from bubbling over, even if she tried.

She lingered in my arms a moment longer, then took a small step back, biting her lip.

"Are you..." she started, then paused "Are you as excited as I am?"

I opened my mouth to respond but I didn't get the chance. She stepped back, her eyes never leaving mine, and slowly eased herself down onto the bed. She kept her knees together at first, her sundress fluttering just over her thighs. Then, without a word, she spread her legs, revealing her soft, white cotton panties with a clear damp spot.

"You don't have to say anything," she said quietly, a nervous smile tugging at her mouth. "I think I already know."

I paused. Emma stared at me. I stared at her.

"I think you might be more than excited, Emma." I smiled.

I knelt onto the bed. Emma shifted slightly, the curve of her thighs glowing from the sunlight creeping in through the curtains. The white cotton clung tight, drenched at the center as if her body had been aching for this since the second she stepped through my door.

She swallowed hard then, with trembling hands, hooked her thumbs into the waistband and slowly tugged them down, bit by bit. The fabric peeled off her soaked pink with lines of wetness clinging onto the cotton like glue.

Emma didn't break eye contact. She didn't speak. She just let me stare at her beautiful, glistening pussy. Emma was blushing so hard I thought she'd pass out. Her knees twitched like she didn't know whether to close them or spread them wider.

Emma nodded softly, giving me the green light. I leaned in slowly, watching her body lock up and her fingers curl into the sheets. I brought my mouth close enough to feel the swamping heat of her on my lips. Then I tasted her.

The first stroke of my tongue made her gasp like she hadn't known what she was asking for until it happened. Her hips lifted reflexively and I held her steady with my hands on her thighs. She was soaked. Her folds opened for me like they'd been waiting and I licked her even slower.

Emma let out a soft, almost embarrassed laugh. But she didn't stop me. Her fingers reached for my hair, tentative at first but then she held on tight, pushing my tongue and lips closer to her delicious pussy. Her thighs squeezed slightly against my ears, but I didn't stop. I circled her clit slowly, letting her melt, letting her body tremble, letting her whimper.

"Jason... oh..." she huffed.

Her fingers tightened and her back arched slightly. I started to alternate the rhythm, flattening my tongue, then licking and lapping away at the slick wetness. She was dripping, twitching, and trying to hold back her moans like she didn't want to make too much noise.

I wasn't having that. I moved my attention back to her clit, closing my lips around it just enough to make her whine. Her body jerked again as her voice cracked.

"I think I'm... I... I'm!"

Her voice faltered, but I felt her cumming before she even said a word. She pulsed under my tongue, her body shook, and her fingers almost put holes in the bedsheets. I stayed there for all of it until her legs trembled and her fingers slipped loose from my hair.

I pulled back, stunned at the mess, and lifted my head slowly. Her sundress had bunched at her hips. Her cheeks were burning red and her hair was stretched across her shoulders. She looked up at me dazed, almost drunk.

"Hi," she whispered cutely.

I smiled.

"Hi."

Emma stayed still for a moment. I was content to just watch her catch her breath. Then she lifted her head and smiled. It wasn't shy, not this time. Slowly, Emma sat up with her legs still trembling and her sundress wrinkled around her waist. She reached for me.

"Come here," she whispered. I rose to my feet. She reached for the waistband of my sweats and tugged them gently. I let them slide down. She inhaled as my cock sprang free, licking her lips without meaning to.

"Jesus," she murmured as she wrapped one hand around the base. Her thumb stroked just beneath the head of my cock like she was testing the weight of it. Then she leaned in. The first kiss was slow with just her lips pressing against the tip, but it still forced a deep groan to escape my lips.

Emma smiled around my tip. Then she kissed it again, even slower this time. Her tongue followed next, dragging beneath the head, circling once, then flattening as she took the first inch into her mouth. Her eyes flicked up to mine.

Then she sucked gently, her lips sealed tight as she guided them up and down the first few inches of my hardness, her tongue as straight as an arrow on my tip.

"Fuck Emma..." I groaned, reaching down to brush my fingers in her hair. Her only reply was a soft moan that sent chills down my spine. Her rhythm was steady like she'd found her favorite meal and planned to take her time. She moaned louder and sucked harder, a thin trail of glistening spit leaking down her bottom lip.

She pulled back with a slick sound. Then, with a breathless little smile, she leaned back in. Slower this time. She took me in again, the head gliding past her lips with a wet kiss of suction, her tongue swirling underneath like she was guiding me in on rails.

Her mouth was warm, but her pressure never broke. Her fingers circled the base as she began to bob, inch by inch, building up spit on every pass so that each sound was wetter, louder, and dirtier than the last.

I felt her tongue press flat against the underside of my shaft, then flick back up around the ridge with slow circles before she slid back down. Her lips sealed tighter as she sucked me deeper, that delicate throat of hers beginning to open up just a little.

Each time she came back up, she paused to stroke me with just her mouth, her tongue lapping beneath the head. Her moans were becoming constant, non stop moaning and groaning as more spittle leaked from her soft lips. I gripped the edge of the dresser behind me.

"Emma... goodness..." I groaned.

Emma moaned in response, sucking harder and tightening the seal her lips had on my cock. Her tongue smeared around me now, slathering my shaft in spit until I glistened in her mouth. It dribbled down her chin, coating her fingers where she held the base. She looked up at me, blinking like she was already cockdrunk and she still didn't stop. Every stroke was precise, every movement of her lips and tongue were made just to unravel me.

I could feel my control slipping. The curling of her tongue at just the right moment, the pressure of her lips, those adorable, faux-innocent eyes staring up at me. I looked down at her. Emma's mouth stretched wide and wet, strands of spit connecting her lips to the base of my cock every time she pulled back. Her hands clung to my thighs now, steadying herself. She wanted me to take control.

So I did.

My hands slid into her hair, gently but firmly gripping her auburn locks. I rolled my hips forward once and she moaned deeply around me. Her eyes fluttered. Then I started thrusting. I didn't slam into her mouth, I stuffed it. Over and over, gritting my teeth as I moved, watching her throat stretch to take me. Her dress bunched at the waist and I could see the damp fabric darken further from the wetness dripping down her face.

Spit slicked her chin, soaked her neck and collarbone, and her mascara was barely intact. My grip on her hair tightened as I slid back and forth inside her slick throat, bubbles and froth building up around the trunk and her lips as she kept her eyes on me.

"Just like that," I growled. "God, you're perfect like this."

"Mhhfff..." Emma moaned in response, spittle popping like fireworks. My cock twitched hard in her mouth. I was close. I pulled her down hard one last time, buried deep in her throat. But I didn't finish. I held her there, groaning through clenched teeth. Then I slowly eased out, my spit-coated cock sliding free of her throat like a lewd magic trick.

Emma gasped, drool trailing from her lips. I knelt in front of her again, pulling her face close and pressing our foreheads together.

"Still want this to last?" I growled.

Emma nodded quickly.

"Then get on the bed and pull that dress up for me."

Emma did as she was told without a word. Her hands and knees sank into the mattress as the hem of her dress fluttered around her waist, exposing her thighs. She looked over her shoulder in anticipation, her lips quivering but smiling. I climbed up behind her slowly. My hands found her hips beneath the fabric. I could feel the heat radiating off her. I stroked my length once then pressed the head beneath her folds.

"Haah... mmhh..." Emma gasped and moaned. She was soaked and still throbbing all for me. I held her waist tighter and leaned forward, dragging myself along her slit, just to hear her moan again.

"Jason... Please..."

I didn't make her beg twice. I pushed forward and she let out the softest, rawest whine as I slid into her, inch by inch. Zero resistance or friction. It felt like her pussy had been waiting for this, remembering me from London and needing me now more than ever. Emma gripped the sheets and arched her back as I sank deeper. Her walls fluttered around me, wet and impossibly tight, pulling me in like she was designed for me.

"Fuck... Emma..." I huffed.

She whimpered again. Her body rocked back, meeting my hips halfway. We weren't moving fast yet, just holding each other at that perfect point. I leaned over her back and whispered near her ear.

"You feel so good like this."

Emma nodded with her face buried in the pillow.

"I needed it... I didn't know how much I needed you..." Emma moaned.

I pulled back just enough to thrust in again, making her toes curl. We stayed still and heavy for a moment, rocking gently as our low moans filled the room. Then Emma started to move with just the tiniest shift of her hips, rocking back into me with a hungry rhythm. But each time I sank deeper, she gave a little more. Her hands gripped the sheets tight as she moaned gruffly into the pillow.

I gripped her hips tighter, pulling her back into me and thrusting deeper now, watching her plump ass clap against my hips. Her dress bunched around her waist, sticking to her spine where sweat had started to gather. The pressure between us built with every stroke. She pushed back harder, the clap of her soft ass driving me wild.

The slickness between her thighs grew louder. Every thrust pulled a sound out of her, something breathless and broken. My grip slid up to her waist, then to her lower back. I leaned over slightly, dragging my fingers along her spine through the fabric of her ruined dress.

"You like this?" I murmured with a smile.

"Yea-yeah... Don't... don't stop..." Emma wasn't giggling anymore.

I began to thrust harder now, each roll of my hips hitting deep, sending her forward an inch only to drag her back to me. The rhythm was perfect. Her body opened for me with every motion.

"You're so fucking wet," I growled. Emma whimpered again. She reached one hand under her body toward her clit.

"Don't you dare," I said, grabbing her wrist and pinning it gently against the small of her back. "You're not getting off without me."

"Jason... pleeeasseee..." Emma whined. I kept thrusting with long, deep strokes. She twisted beneath me. Her legs spread wider, bracing for each thrust. I leaned in again, my chest to her back and my lips brushing her neck as I fucked her from behind with one hand holding her wrist, the other digging into her hip.

"I'm not letting this end yet," I whispered. "You feel too fucking good."

She moaned like she might cry from how much she loved hearing that. But she didn't stop pushing back and I didn't stop giving it to her. Then Emma started to tremble. I could feel it in the way her thighs shook with every thrust. She was getting close. The sound of us echoed in the room, wet, rhythmic flesh smashing constantly. Her soaked panties were still tangled around one ankle. Her dress clung to her spine in sweaty folds.