Unexpected company

The water hissed over Emily’s shoulders, steam rising in clouds as her fingers drifted lower, slow and aching with memory. Her thighs trembled faintly, slick with Eli’s cum, the last of it washing down the drain. Her breath fogged the tile. Her eyes fluttered shut.

Then—

A hand.

Not hers.

Firmer. Warmer. Moving with sudden, terrifying precision.

Emily gasped—tried to whirl around—but an arm slid around her middle, locking her gently in place. Skin against skin. A body behind her, naked, pressing soft to firm, hips flush. Breasts met her back. Nipples stiff. A breath—hot—brushed her ear.

“Shhh,” Tasha whispered, voice low, calm, and so damn intimate it made Emily freeze. “It’s just me.”

Emily’s pulse thundered.

She turned her head slightly, her cheek brushing against wet curls, lips parting—but no words came. She felt Tasha’s nose nuzzle the damp skin beneath her ear, felt her own legs start to tremble harder.

“I saw everything,” Tasha murmured, her fingers sliding slick between Emily’s thighs. “You didn’t even bother to clean up properly. You came home dripping someone else’s cum.”

Emily’s breath hitched—then caught completely when two fingers dipped into her, slowly, without hesitation.

“Not very subtle,” Tasha said, almost amused, voice thick with something darker. “I could smell it on you the second you walked in.”

Emily’s knees buckled slightly. She reached out for the wall, bracing herself, her body betraying her with a long, shuddering moan—"Nnnh—!"—as Tasha worked those fingers deeper.

“You really thought I wouldn’t notice?” Tasha whispered, her lips brushing the curve of Emily’s ear. “I’ve seen how you walk around the house. Barefoot. No bra. Sweaters too thin. Always flushed. Always biting your lip when you think I’m not looking.”

She curled her fingers up inside her.

Emily’s head dropped forward with a gasp—"Ah—ahh, f-fuck—"—her body opening like it had been waiting for this. Her skin prickled under the heat, her nipples stiff and dragging against the tile with every twitch of her hips.

“I’ve made myself cum thinking about you so many fucking times,” Tasha breathed, her pace quickening, other hand sliding up to cup Emily’s breast—squeezing, thumbing the nipple, hard. “In your laundry room. In the guest bath. On your couch after you went to the gym.”

Emily couldn’t breathe. Her mouth was open. Her thighs trembled violently now, her pussy soaked and clenched tight around Tasha’s fingers.

Tasha groaned softly against her ear, grinding against her ass. “And you just kept tempting me. Day after day. Like you wanted this. Like you needed someone to catch you.”

Emily’s moan broke. She bucked helplessly against the hand between her legs, her walls fluttering. Her orgasm crept in fast—thick and hot and sharp—and she couldn’t stop it. She didn’t want to.

Tasha bit her shoulder gently, growled into her skin: “Cum for me, mama. Right now.”

Emily screamed.

Her climax slammed into her—wet, hard, shivering—her body locking as Tasha fucked her through it, fingers relentless, hips grinding. Her moans echoed against the tile—"Ahh—fuck—yes—ohhh, Tasha—!"

And Tasha didn’t stop. Not until Emily collapsed forward against the wall, panting, dripping, flushed from scalp to thighs.

Then—quietly, breathlessly—Tasha kissed her neck.

“Next time,” she whispered, licking a bead of water from Emily’s shoulder, “you’re gonna make me cum.”