A quick stop on the way.

Time can’t move fast enough, you’re **** to hear what story she cones up with as you clean her up, and the moment your desktop clock shows five you rush out. Halfway home you realize how much Emily has been doing for you recently, it only feels right to show her how much you appreciate her. So, a quick stop at a convenience store for a bouquet, chocolates, and her favourite drink seem in order, then, fifteen minutes Later, you’re back on your way home.

-0-

It’s already dark when you round the corner, almost dropping your armload of appreciation when you bump shoulders with an easily six foot man. He’s older, muscular, a little padded around the middle, classic dadbod, and doesn’t seem to have been half as affected as you by the impact. The streetlight catches on his salt and pepper stubble, a look of cold amusement on his face as he stares you down, leaving you mumbling a quick apology before scurrying down the street.

-0-

The smell hits you the moment you walk through the door, and Emily doesn’t answer your greeting, sending a twitch of worry through your insides. You check every room, finding crusty yellowing stains on the carpet and couch, along with a torn pair of her panties. Then you find Emily in the bedroom, collapsed face down on the bed in a thick puddle of fake cum, her pussy and ass leaking it. You only half register that there’s no phone stand, no dildo, too focused on checking if she’s ok, and too turned on by the scenarios rushing through your head.

Fighting the urge to dive facefirst into her messy holes, you get a wet cloth to gently clean her up, pausing a moment when you spot two sets of tally-marks on her thigh, one marked pussy, counting three, one marked ass, counting five. The thought almost makes you cream your briefs, as you gently move her to clean up the puddle between her thighs.