"Thank you for all the awesome feedback everyone, glad to see your enjoying the Emily series as much as I am. Enjoy it,pass it around and oh yea..give it a vote please :)
Special thanks to Le Gourmand for editing this story."
Marcus arched his back, shaking his head, a bit of hair falling away off of his forehead and out of his eyes. It was dark in the room, and rays of light from a nearby streetlamp cut patterns on the bed illuminating the body of his lover, casting weird shadows across the gentle curves of her breasts. Plump and lush, they wiggled as he thrust into her, perhaps with more gusto than he had expected. Slowing down just a bit, he closed his eyes and focused on the feel of her pussy around his cock. Velvety and hot, just the thought made him throb as he took her thighs pushed them apart and stops. He looked down at her through hooded eyes, and she smiled up at him her brown eyes almost black, glazed and half shut with lust, the gleam of carnal desires sparkling like stars. Her lips, bright scarlet slashes against her dark skin.
Flexing her muscles she pulled him back inside her pussy, her hands tugging at his hips desperately, a hungry little slut if he ever met one. Soft throaty moans echoed in the dark room, her nails digging into his skin as she pulled him inside her deeper, and harder. Tracing his hands up her body he takes her hands, linking his fingers through hers and pins them to the mattress, the feeling sending his mind wandering while his body worked hers on autopilot.
***
Leaning back in his soft leather armchair, coming home from a movie-date Marcus wondered why he even bothered with girls at his university. Spoiled and overindulged, nothing really pleased any of them. He thought Sarah would at least excite him. Physically she was perfect. Tall and slim, she moved gracefully, the product of years of tedious dance classes. She had short blonde hair, the front framing her face and making her look like she just tumbled out of bed - a dye job most likely. Her blue eyes were like glass, beautiful and almost clear and he felt like he could get lost just staring into them. She had perfect breasts. They all did, did they go in groups? he wondered, one friend telling the others like they were going out to get pizza? Not too small not too large, 34Cs if he had to bet money on it. He remembered with a grin how she'd let him slide his hand under her tight cashmere sweater five minutes into the movie. It was both exciting and a bit of a disappointment at the same time. Where was the challenge in that? They both knew from the moment he picked her up that at the end of the night she'd be his, the movie more of a formality than anything else.
A door slammed somewhere behind him, and he heard her drop her purse on the floor. 'Anyone home?' she yells, her cheery voice carrying through the empty rooms of the house.
'Yea back here Sis, I'm in the great room.'
Her heels clicked arrogantly on the wooden floors, he could hear just where she was in the room without bothering to turn his head, 'You're getting home rather late aren't you? It's past midnight.'
'So? I went out with some friends what's the big deal?' she asked, quite exasperated at his inquiries.
Sighing to him self, this had to be the fiftieth time they'd had this same conversation, and it was getting quite tiresome. Standing up, turning finally to look at her, his jaw drops in surprise, 'What the fuck are you wearing? Jesus Christ, Sis!'
A bit taken aback, she'd never heard him raise his voice at her, she shrugged, feigning apathy, 'What? I'm wearing an outfit like everyone else's.'
Still not sure what had come over her, he took a step back to really inspect her attire; a dark red tube top against her creamy skin, so tight the tops of her breasts looked about ready to spill out, the insubstantial fabric almost unable to contain them with only a few centimeters keeping her nipples from being exposed. Her long dark hair cascaded in gentle, artful curls down to her ass; the bangs long enough to fall against that band-aid she called a shirt. All it did was draw a sharp contrast between her porcelain skin and the almost espresso color of her hair. A black skirt sat low on her hips and very high up on her thighs, with the tops of a red G-string panties completing her teasing ensemble.
She shifted nervously, and a glint of something sparkly at her navel caught his attention; a diamond teardrop dangling from a thin, almost invisible platinum barbell. If he weren't so angry he would have told her it looked beautiful on her, and he bit his lip to try and keep his composure, and this wasn't the time to compliment her. She was in serious trouble - he was too if he were being honest for not noticing what the little minx had been up to in the week since his parents left for Europe.
'That is not an outfit; I've seen hookers who wear more then that. You're 17, Sis, you can't leave the house in shit like that. Hell, you shouldn't even own anything like that. What the hell came over you?' he raged, trying his best to remain tough on her and he saw the beginning of tears well up in her emerald eyes, feeling like he wanted to hurry over and take her into the deep embrace of his strong arms. He gave her another look over, and he felt an odd sensation growing in his groin. What the hell was wrong with him? He was supposed to be mad at her, not get turned on. He didn't even realize how much he raised his voice until he saw the look in her eyes.
Her lip quivered slightly, and she tried her best to be her usual cool self, 'All I wanted to do was look pretty like all the other girls I go to school with. So what if you hate my outfit? All the other boys who saw me in it seemed to love it. They kept coming over to me to tell me how great I looked tonight.'
'That's the problem Sis, you look to damn good in that outfit,' he blurted without thinking, knowing instantly he was in murky waters, and wishing he hadn't blurted that out.
'I do?' She looked up at him, a small smile creeping across her rouged lips. Marcus quivered underneath his pants, not being able to make heads or tail what that smile meant.