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Innocent young Emma's encounter with porn awakens her lust.
Mara looked through the peephole, a smile breaking across her face.
One hand slicked back his red hair, slightly damp. He slouched. The collar on his denim blue button down popped up on one side, but laid flat on the other. The sleeves were bunched up to the elbow. She could just see the top of his khaki slacks. She sobered her expression before opening the door.
Henry squared his shoulders, giving Mara a once over. Her outfit-a white tank top tucked into teal high-waisted shorts-accentuated her classic curves. Her hair wasn't its usual lion mane, but teased into a pompadour style. The urge to touch it itched on his fingertips.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"I'm sorry too. I should have said what was going on before. I'm saying something now."
"But it's after the fact. After you made your decision and then let me in on whatever craziness is going on in your head. Seriously, what were you going to do? Just dump me one day out of the blue?"
"No...Well-I was going to tell you," she stuttered.
Henry scoffed. The disbelief on his face showed as blatant as the guilt on hers. "Jesus. You can't do this. This is not how relationships work."
"Don't treat me like I don't know how to be in a relationship."
"Don't treat me like I don't get how you're feeling. I'm worrying about the same shit."
"So why don't you say so?"
"'Cause we don't have time to focus on that."
"Not talking about it doesn't make the problem disappear, Henry. That's just doing to me what I did to you and saying it's better. It's not."
They stared each other down. Mara still stood in the doorway; Henry still stood on the porch. They were toe to toe, teetering on the threshold.
"I want this." She reached up, hooking her hands around the back of his neck. "I want to be with you. We'll figure out the other stuff."
Some tension left Henry's shoulders, but he remained quiet. Mara reached around, giving his ass a playful squeeze. A twitch of a smile flashed across his face.
"What are you gonna do about it?" she asked.
Henry finally broke, hoisting Mara over his shoulder. He promptly jogged them up the stairs, stripped them and got to work on making up. They fucked three times before ending up in her grey-tiled shower.
Mara watched the water drip from Henry's hair as stood under the spray of the showerhead. The rivulets slid down his neck, over his shoulders. They raced over his back, over the fresh welts.
Mindlessly, she lifted a hand, tracing a finger over the damage she'd inflicted. His shoulders twitched, but he didn't turn. She watched his ass as he shifted his weight, transfixed by the muscle that moved beneath the skin. She wrapped her arms around his waist; his stomach contracted at her touch.
Henry felt her nipples hardening against his back, heard her slightly laboring breath as she reached for his dick. He caught her hand and turned. "Give him a minute, will you?"
She relented with a pout. "Fine. Swap."
"I didn't even get to wash off yet."
They changed places. The hot water cascading down Mara's body immediately soothed her sore limbs. She pulled her hair back into a tight bun and picked up her loofah, but Henry grabbed the sponge from her hand.
"I'll do it."
He picked up the bar of soap and scrubbed the loofah against it. He smiled as the scent of vanilla and cinnamon filled his nostrils.
So this is where it comes from.
They hadn't showered together before, so this was new to him. He'd unlocked the door to a secret, one part of what made Mara who she was.
Mara moved from under the stream of the showerhead and Henry started on her arms, gently massaging, stopping for her giggling fits as he cleaned her underarms.