Emily awoke at seven, feeling refreshed for the first time in weeks. Her satin sheets felt smooth and warm against her nude body, and she stretched luxuriously, relishing the warm sunlight pouring through her window.
Her body felt warm and fulfilled. After her date with Greg the previous night, she'd come home and slowly coaxed herself through two stunning orgasms, one with her fingers and a second time with her vibrator. Greg's text had set her off. She recalled with pleasure her daring experience in the women's room at Logan's, fingering herself to a deep orgasm while filming on her phone. At the end of the date, she subtly passed her still wet panties off to him and sent the video. When she got home, his response was waiting for her in a text. There were no words, just a long video of him, fully nude, masturbating with her underwear. She came quickly at first, overwhelmed by the lust stirred up as she watched this man milk his cock with her black silk panties, still damp with her earlier pleasure. For the second orgasm, she'd taken her time, watching the video in slow motion and timing her climax to coincide with the moment when the first thick rope of cum erupted from the swollen head of his cock into the black lace panties. Before drifting off to sleep, she sent him a kiss emoji, and then fell into a relaxing, deep rest.
She rose from bed, and stood for a moment looking herself over in the full length mirror. She liked what she saw. At 35, her body was well-toned, but also full and healthy. Her breasts, which she'd always been proud of, were larger than a handful, but still firm. In the early morning air, her large pink nipples were rock hard and stood dark and proud against her pale skin. She ran her hands from the base of her breasts, along her slight tummy, and down her thighs. Her thick hips gave her a strong, womanly figure, and a tiny wisp of light brown, almost blonde hair peeked from between her legs. She knew that she was no model, but attractive enough. She fondly remembered Greg's first video to her, in which he'd shown himself masturbating to her fully-nude but faceless selfie. The fact that he found her attractive made her feel attractive, and that in turn made her want to extend his pleasure even further.
She padded across the carpet and pulled a thin robe down from a hook on the back of her bedroom door before heading into the main room of her apartment. As she started her pot of morning coffee, her mind wandered, oscillating between anticipation of the next step in this whirlwind affair and reflection on the last several years. Her new found bravery, bordering on recklessness, was a welcome break from years of staleness with Todd and a devastating break up that had left her feeling not only betrayed, but unattractive. The last several weeks of escalating flirting with Greg, culminating in the insanity of last night's stunt in the ladies' room, had woken something up in her. It felt good.
She didn't particularly want to rehash the end of an eight year relationship with Todd. Suffice it to say that it had left a hole in her that had gradually filled with an acid resentment over wasted time. She'd given up her virginity to Todd in her senior year of college and they'd moved in together shortly thereafter. She followed him across the country when he enrolled in a PhD program in literature, and then again when he got his first job. With each passing year, he became more and more enmeshed in an academic culture that she found pretentious and boring. All the while, the mixture of tender attraction and raw lust that Todd had shown her in the early days faded, until at the end they were barely roommates. And then he'd confessed an affair with a colleague at another school, and just like that, it was over.
Well, Emily thought, enough of that. Todd could have his painfully thin and angular expert in Victorian literature. She was better without him, and frankly happier.
Which brought her to Greg. She sipped her coffee at the counter that separated her tiny kitchen from the sitting room. What to do about Greg?
