Welcome Home

The sound of keys jingling in the lock made Emily's heart leap. She jumped up from the couch, her bare feet padding on the hardwood floor, the burgundy lace clinging to her body as she positioned herself in view of the front door. She ran her fingers through her still-damp red hair, pushed her chest forward, and waited.

The door swung open and Lena "Tracer" Oxton stepped inside, still in her civilian clothes — a fitted jacket over a tank top, those signature orange leggings that hugged every curve of her athletic legs, her spiky brown hair slightly windswept from the evening air. She was already talking before she'd even closed the door—

Em, love, you would not believe the day I've—

She stopped mid-sentence. Her brown eyes went wide as they landed on Emily standing there in the hallway, bathed in the warm lamplight, wearing nothing but sheer burgundy lace. The bralette that barely concealed her hard pink nipples. The panties that were essentially just decorative strings. Miles of pale, freckled skin on display.

Bloody hell, Lena breathed, her keys dangling forgotten from her fingers. Her eyes traveled slowly down Emily's body and back up again, her lips parting slightly. Em... you look... fucking gorgeous. What's the occasion?

Emily didn't answer with words. She crossed the distance between them in three quick steps and threw herself into Lena's arms, wrapping her arms around her girlfriend's neck and pressing her barely-clothed body against Lena's fully-dressed one. Lena stumbled back against the door with an surprised laugh, her hands instinctively grabbing Emily's waist — then sliding lower, finding the bare skin of her ass where the thong left nothing to the imagination.

Well hello to you t—mmph!

Emily crushed her mouth against Lena's, cutting off whatever cheeky comment was forming. She kissed her girlfriend hard and deep, pouring all the **** energy of the evening into it. But there was an ulterior motive too — Emily's tongue pushed past Lena's lips immediately, sliding into her girlfriend's mouth with hungry purpose. She explored every surface — ran her tongue along Lena's teeth, across the roof of her mouth, tangled with Lena's tongue. She was searching. Tasting. Looking for that familiar salty musk, that thick, unmistakable flavor of cum that she'd been savoring all evening.

Nothing. Emily's tongue swept every corner of Lena's mouth and found only the faint taste of mint toothpaste and the tea Lena must have had earlier. No cum. Not even a trace. Not the faintest hint that a cock had been anywhere near these lips today.

Disappointment curled in Emily's stomach, but she kept kissing, kept searching, hoping maybe she'd missed something—

Meanwhile, Lena was melting into the kiss with a soft moan. Her hands squeezed Emily's bare ass, pulling her closer, and her own tongue ventured into Emily's mouth in return. And there — there it was. Lena tasted something. Something unfamiliar but immediately, inexplicably appealing. A faint saltiness that wasn't just saliva. A subtle musk that clung to the back of Emily's throat, residual traces of the gallons she'd swallowed that no amount of showering could completely erase. Lena couldn't identify it — her hypnotized brain simply couldn't connect that flavor to its source — but whatever it was, it made her press deeper into the kiss, her tongue chasing the taste with sudden enthusiasm.

Mmm, Lena hummed against Emily's lips, her fingers digging into the soft flesh of her girlfriend's ass. You taste... really good tonight, love. Like... I dunno. Something new. Did you eat something different?

Emily smiled against Lena's mouth but didn't answer, kissing her a moment longer before finally pulling back. She stayed close, though — close enough to nuzzle into Lena's neck, to press her nose against the warm skin below her ear and inhale deeply. She breathed in her girlfriend's scent, searching again, hoping—

Soap. Floral body wash — the one from their shower. And perfume — that light, citrusy scent Lena always spritzed on after getting ready. Clean, fresh, feminine. Not a single trace of cum. No musk, no salt, no lingering essence of male. Lena smelled like she'd just stepped out of a shower, which meant she probably had, which meant if she had visited the cum bath today, she'd washed every trace of it away before coming home.

Or — and this was the more disappointing possibility — she simply hadn't gone at all.

Emily pulled back fully, trying to keep the disappointment off her face. She looked at her girlfriend with what she hoped was a casual, playful expression.

So, Emily said lightly, toying with the zipper of Lena's jacket. How was your day? Did you get to... relax at all? Maybe go for nice long bath?

She kept her voice innocent, but her green eyes were searching Lena's face for any sign — any flicker of guilty pleasure, any post-orgasmic glow, any hint that she'd spent her afternoon being filled with anonymous cock like a good slut should.

Lena kicked off her shoes and shrugged out of her jacket, tossing it over the back of the nearest chair. Nah, didn't have time for anything fun. Mission briefing ran long, then debrief after that, then Winston needed me for some chronal calibration thing. She stretched her arms over her head, her tank top riding up to expose her toned stomach. Only just managed to grab a quick shower in the locker room before heading home. Didn't even get to hit the gym.

So that was it. No cum bath. No glory holes. No anonymous cocks stuffing her pretty little mouth. Lena had simply... worked. And showered. Like a normal person.

Emily felt the disappointment sink into her gut. She'd so desperately wanted to taste cum in Lena's mouth. Wanted to smell it on her skin. Wanted to know that while she'd been floating in a pool of seed, her girlfriend had been getting the same treatment somewhere else in the facility. She'd wanted them to be cum sluts together.

But that was okay. Disappointing but okay.

For now, though, Emily had other needs. Her pussy had been throbbing since she'd put on this lingerie, since she'd spent twenty minutes fantasizing about cocks while staring at herself in the mirror, and Lena was here and Lena was gorgeous and Lena's hands had felt so good on her ass.

I missed you, Emily murmured, stepping close again. She trailed her fingers down Lena's arm, then took her hand and placed it directly on her breast — pressing Lena's palm against the sheer lace, letting her feel the hard nipple poking through. I've been thinking about you all day. I'm so fucking wet right now, Lena.

Lena's eyes darkened immediately, her pupils dilating as her fingers automatically squeezed the soft flesh under the lace. Christ, Em. What's gotten into you today? A grin spread across her face — that cocky, confident Tracer grin that meant she was fully on board. Not that I'm complaining. You look absolutely fit in that. Haven't seen this set in ages.

I found it in the back of the drawer, Emily said, turning slowly to give Lena the full view — showing off how the thong disappeared between her round cheeks, how the lace clung to every curve. Figured I'd remind you what I look like in it.

Consider me reminded. Lena's voice was lower now, rougher. Her eyes were locked on Emily's ass. Fuck, babe. You want to...?

Bedroom. Now! Emily grabbed Lena's hand and pulled.

Lena followed eagerly, nearly tripping over her own feet in her haste. They tumbled into the bedroom together, Lena already pulling her tank top over her head, revealing her compact, athletic body — small, firm tits in a practical sports bra, defined abs, wiry arms. She had the body of a sprinter — lean and powerful and perpetually in motion.

Put something sexy on, Emily said, surprising herself with the command in her own voice. She dropped onto the bed and leaned back on her elbows, watching Lena with hooded eyes. The black set. The one with the garters.

Lena raised an eyebrow, grinning. Giving orders tonight, are we? I like this new you. She shimmied out of her leggings — no underwear beneath them, Emily noticed, catching a flash of Lena's pussy, smooth and pink — and went to the drawer where Emily had already excavated the lingerie collection.

While Lena rummaged through the drawer, pulling out the black bustier with an appreciative whistle, Emily slid off the bed and moved to the window. Their bedroom faced the street — a quiet residential road in King's Row, but there were apartment buildings across the way. Other windows. Other people who might be home on a weeknight, who might glance across the street if they noticed a light on.

Emily gripped the curtains — thick, heavy blackout curtains that she and Lena always kept closed for privacy during intimate moments — and pulled them wide open.

The evening sky filled the window. Streetlamps cast orange pools on the sidewalk below. Across the street, she could see a few lit windows — living rooms flickering with television light, a kitchen where someone moved around. And if they could see in... if anyone happened to look this way...

Emily's pussy clenched at the thought. She turned and flicked on the bedroom light — the overhead one, bright and unforgiving, flooding the room with illumination that would make their bedroom a lit-up stage visible to anyone who happened to look up from the street.

Em? Lena glanced over from where she was stepping into the black bustier, one eyebrow raised. Curtains open? Light on? Usually we—

I want to see you properly, Emily purred, settling back on the bed, positioning herself so she was facing the window — so anyone looking in would see her spread out in her burgundy lingerie, pale skin glowing under the overhead light. I want the light on while I watch you get dressed.

Lena shrugged, apparently accepting this explanation. Fair enough, love. Enjoy the show then.

And Emily did. She watched Lena pull the black bustier up over her hips and settle it around her torso — the structured cups lifting her small, firm tits into a gorgeous display of cleavage, the boning cinching her already-narrow waist. Lena clipped the front clasps with practiced ease, then bent to roll the sheer black stockings up each toned leg — one foot pointed like a dancer, smoothing the material over her calf, her knee, her thigh. She attached the garter clips with little metallic snaps, the straps pulling taut against her skin.

She looked incredible. Lean and powerful and sexy as hell in black lace and satin, her messy brown hair and cocky grin giving her the look of a mischievous pixie who'd wandered into a burlesque show.

But even as Emily admired her girlfriend — even as her pussy dripped and her nipples ached — a part of her mind was drifting. Drifting to the window. To the possibility that someone out there was watching. Some man in the apartment across the street, maybe. Maybe he'd looked up from his dinner and seen two women in lingerie in a brightly lit bedroom. Maybe he was watching right now. Maybe his cock was getting hard.

Emily spread her legs slightly, letting one knee fall to the side, and imagined that man watching. Imagined him pulling his cock out, stroking it slowly as he watched her and Lena through the window. Imagined his cum eventually spurting, wished she could be there to catch it—

Ready for me, love? Lena was crawling onto the bed now, all predatory grace in her black ensemble, her eyes fixed on Emily's body with hungry appreciation. She settled between Emily's parted thighs, running her hands up the outside of those pale legs, her thumbs tracing the lines of the burgundy thong strings.

Emily looked up at her girlfriend, smiled, and pulled her down into a kiss.

And behind them, the window stayed wide open, the light blazing, their bodies on full display for anyone in King's Row who cared to watch.

Emily hoped someone was watching. She hoped some man was getting hard right now, looking at her, wishing he could be here, wishing he could add his cock to the scene. The thought made her wetter than Lena's skilled tongue ever had.

But she'd take what she could get tonight. And tomorrow... tomorrow she'd make sure they both came home covered in cum.